may flowers
by closingdoors
Summary: AU. Castle and Beckett meet during the bank robbery in Cops And Robbers. After the events of Montgomery's shooting, her own, and breaking up with Josh, will Beckett still learn to let Castle in? COMPLETE.
1. Chapter 1

But fuck it.  
I don't want May flowers.

I only want  
you.

**\- Thinking About The Way You Hold Your Hands Over Flowerbeds, Shinji Moon**

* * *

**Prompt: **Castle and Beckett meet during cops and robbers and alexis is only like 4 or 5.

I changed the prompt slightly so that Alexis is seven, instead of four or five. Mostly because I feel like, otherwise, she would've been a screaming, terrified toddler during the hostage situation and wouldn't really understand what's happening. As for fluff, I make no promises. The characters wouldn't exactly be the same we see in season 4 here because of never having met, so…

The prompt was taken from the castlefanficprompts blog, and I own nothing, except for a hefty student loan debt (please allow time between updates, as I move out for uni tomorrow, so this will be taking a backseat on my priorities list.)

* * *

**Chapter One**

They leave for the scene the moment they get the call from Jenny.

Ryan's a mess, smudging his hand through his hair and making it stand on end as she weaves through New York traffic. Every few seconds he tells her to _drive faster, _and her eyes meet Esposito's worried ones in the rearview mirror.

What if they can't save her?

They're homicide cops. They're not trained to deal with hostage negotiations. She's used to intimidation tactics, bullying, shouting and yelling as she deals with the lowest possible form of humanity, the dredges that shouldn't have escaped the underbelly of the world. She's not used to patience. Bargaining.

Collateral damage.

Her tyres screech when the reach the bank, startling the crowd that have gathered around the bank. Ryan flies from her car and she and Esposito follow close behind, exchanging glances once again as Ryan pushes through the crowd, ducks under the police tape and heads straight for the van that the hostage negotiation team have parked outside the bank.

"Espo," she stops him with a hand on the arm before they can follow Ryan inside.

He shakes his head. "Beckett, don't - "

"What if we _can__'__t _save her, Javi?"

"Don't talk like that," he says. "There's no other option. No matter how long or hard it is, we have to get her back."

Kate retracts her hand on his arm, nodding. They both know, though. That they might not get her back.

That Ryan might not get married in four weeks.

The detective's voice is the first thing she hears when she makes her way into the van. He's yelling, red in the face and toe to toe with the captain of the team. She intercepts immediately, slipping a hand between their chests to push Ryan back slightly.

"Woah, Ryan," she says softly. "Calm down."

The detective laughs bitterly, shaking his head at her. "Calm _down? _I would calm down if this jackass would tell me why the _hell _they're not in there already saving Jenny!"

"Bro," Esposito says, grabbing Ryan's arm and holding him back when he makes an attempt to step towards the captain again.

Ryan shakes him off, glaring at the captain, and Kate steps between them, diverting the captain's attention in the hopes the stressed member of her team won't be kicked off the case.

"Captain, my name is Detective Kate Beckett. We're homicide detectives with the twelfth," she says, holding out a hand.

He accepts it. "Captain Peterson. What's homicide doing in my territory?"

"The fiancée of one of the members of our team, Detective Ryan, is in that building. She was on the phone to him when the robbers took charge of the bank."

"How many of them were there?"

Kate looks back at Ryan, who casts a dark glance to the captain before replying. "Four. All armed. She said they were dressed in doctor's scrubs."

"Alright. Well, thanks for the intel, detectives. We'll do everything we can to get her out."

"Okay, so what's our next move?"

The captain laughs, shaking his head. Behind her, she feels Esposito grab for Ryan again, holding him back and murmuring _leave it, bro. _Part of her doesn't blame him. Most of her just wishes for jurisdiction, for the ability to take over this case. Maybe it wouldn't get them anywhere, but at least she would feel like she would be getting _somewhere _with this, and helping to save Jenny in someway. Sitting back and watching how things play out has never really been her strong point.

"No, there is no next move for you. You want to help your friend? You let me do my job."

Ryan steps forward, anger twisting his features to something ugly again, so she lets it go. Instead, she meets his eyes, shaking her head at him and moving him towards the door. Ryan stares back defiantly for a moment, ready to argue, but then Esposito tugs on his arm, leading him from the van. She follows with a heavy heart.

"Espo, you still have buddies in the ESU?"

Esposito nods.

"Good. I wanna know what they know, and let's get in touch with major crimes, find out if there are any other robberies with similar MOs. The more we know about these guys, the more leverage we have."

With one last sympathetic glance at his partner, Esposito walks away, pressing his phone to his ear.

"Beckett…"

"We'll get her, Ryan. I promise. Okay?"

"How are we supposed to get her when the captain won't even let us help?" Ryan exclaims.

"Look around you, Ryan," she says, sternly this time. "There's cops everywhere. There's a SWAT team already in position. They're not gonna give up, and neither are we."

The words don't seem to ease Ryan, who simply rakes another hand through his hair, clenching his jaw as she stares at the blinded windows of the bank. She follows his gaze, swallowing past the heavy feeling of trepidation in her throat. They will get Jenny back. Just like Esposito said before, they can't afford _not _to.

"Detective Beckett."

She turns to find one of the members of the hostage negotiation team waiting for her.

"Captain Peterson would like a word."

The captain is watching something on the monitors when she steps up into the van. When he hears her footsteps, he sighs.

"Tell me. Do you like the spotlight, detective?"

"Excuse me?"

"I just got off the phone with our robber. He says he'll only talk to, and I quote, the _invincible _cop. The friend of the pretty blonde hostage, who took a bullet at her captain's funeral."

She looks away at the reference, the scar between her breasts burning brightly. It's a constant, dull pain, most days. She's learned how to ignore it, how to move the dark thoughts from her mind during the day - she combats them with a bunch of sleeping pills at night.

"Sir, I have no training in hostage negotiation - "

He pulls a seat out for her. "Well, I don't have time to give you a seminar, but I can teach you a few things. Basically, forget everything you ever learned during your homicide training."

* * *

Later, when their robber is off the phone and Ryan is busy calling Jenny's parents, she leans against the outside of the van, trying to collect herself. It's not working.

"Hey."

She looks up at Esposito. "Any luck?"

"ESU can't get eyes or ears inside. Cameras are disabled and the walls are too thick to drill inside."

"So what if ESU storms the bank?"

"They'll be going in blind."

She returns her gaze to the floor, studying the gravel and trying to get images of Jenny's body - on the floor, shot dead by the robbers - from her mind. They can't do that to Ryan. As his friends, they owe this to him.

"And… in your experience, in this scenario, what are the hostages' chances of survival?"

Esposito hesitates to answer. She looks up at him. He looks away, over at Ryan, who's wiping away his tears while talking to Jenny's mom. She follows his gaze, shaking her head, knowing with absolute certainty that, after this day, nothing will ever be the same again.

* * *

She doesn't know who it is that signals them in morse code, but she's grateful to them when she figures it out. Safety deposit box one twenty. It gives Ryan something to do, some way to feel useful instead of demanding answers from her that she doesn't have, and she sends him and Esposito to the owner of the box happily.

When she enters that bank, dressed as a paramedic, her eyes fall on the patient, Sal, and she finds Jenny kneeling beside him, along with - Richard Castle?

Her lips almost twist into a grin. Of course. _Now _she knows who sent the morse code.

"How's he doin'?" She asks, kneeling besides the journey.

"Not good," Jenny tells her, and she watches from the corner of her eye as her favourite author surreptitiously writes her a note.

"I think the seizure was brought on by stress," he adds, and she takes a moment to _really _look at him, all soft hair and gentle blue eyes. This man risked his life to defend one who couldn't. With Jenny, that doesn't surprise her, the woman has a heart of gold. But a rich playboy philanthropist? _That__'__s _news.

"Hey, Sal, buddy. How you doin'?" She says, shifting her attention to the man laying between them. "Sal, listen to me. I want you to know that there are people out there waiting for you, who won't give up on you."

She hears sweet, gentle Jenny take a sharp breath at her words, and she looks up to meet her eyes, slowly reaching a hand over to squeeze her friend's own. She can feel Richard Castle's inquisitive eyes burning her skin.

"I promise. We'll get you out of here."

There are footsteps then, the click of a gun and she quickly releases Jenny's hand.

"Don't talk about it, be about it."

Kate tears her eyes away from her friend's fiancée's.

"And you. Help her put him on that gurney _now._"

Another one of the robbers, dressed as a doctor, moves forwards and aims her gun at Jenny. Kate tenses, but the robber simply nods to the rest of the crowd, and Jenny, trembling, moves to sit down with the others. She only remembers to look away when Richard Castle begins talking to Sal, hooking his arms underneath him, and she moves to help.

"There you go, buddy," she says, gently moving Sal onto the gurney, making minimal eye contact with her favourite author before he manages to slip the note into her hand. He's smart, she'll give him that.

As she's walking out of the building, she pauses, looking back at the man who's staring at her as though she could possibly save him.

Maybe she can.

* * *

Everything changes when the bomb goes off.

Ryan's first through the door. He doesn't even wait for the SWAT team.

"Jenny!"

No answer.

"Jenny!"

She and Esposito flank him, followed by the SWAT team, whose gear is loud in this unbroken silence. Dust settles on the remains of the bank, swathing them and almost choking her. The thought that Jenny might be - and that Richard Castle too -

"Kevin?"

A desperate sob rips itself from Ryan's throat and he eagerly bursts forward, through the doors that lead him to his fiancée. Kate exchanges a relieved smile with Esposito before following Ryan, who has instantly fallen before Jenny, unclipping her restraints and pulling her into his arms. The scene makes the empty ache in her chest heavy.

Automatically, she moves towards Richard Castle, who she finds cradling a young, redheaded girl in his lap. She assumes she's his daughter. The girl can only be seven or eight at most, and she's still trembling against her father, pale wrists bruised by the restraints, still in distress, even as she watches Kate kneel in front of them slowly while her father whispers reassuring words into her hair.

She frees the writer without a word, who nods at her above his daughter's head, and then she smiles reassuringly at the young girl.

"Hey there. My name is Detective Kate Beckett. You can call me Kate, if you'd like. What's your name?"

The young girl sniffs. "Alexis."

"Alexis. That's a lovely name," she tells her, watching as the young girl gives her an uncertain smile. "Alexis, can I help you out of those?"

The young girl looks up at her father doubtfully, who simply waits for her to make a decision. A pregnant pause is exchanged between them before the young girl nods, holding out her wrists for Beckett.

"You know," she says, freeing Alexis, "I think I saw a lady in the crowd with hair even brighter than yours."

Her blue eyes light up hopefully, even with unshed tears glittering in them.

"My gram?"

"Maybe. Would you like to leave and find out?"

Alexis nods eagerly, taking the hand Kate offers her as Richard Castle stands behind them. She gets the feeling that the man could use a second to shed his false bravado that he's worn in front of his daughter to really process what he's just been through, so while Esposito and the rest of the team help the other hostages, she leads the young girl out of the bank, her father right behind them.

"Gram!" The young girl cries, pointing to an older woman waiting for them.

Kate nods at the officer keeping her away from the scene, and he lets her through. Alexis releases her hand and hurtles towards her grandma, who bends down to catch her, kissing the crown of her granddaughter's head repeatedly and allowing a few tears to escape. Richard Castle passes her, his hand squeezing her elbow as he does and she watches as his mother stands back up to her full height and grips her son.

"Oh, Richard," she says, palming his cheeks. "I thought I'd lost you both."

"You know I'm too pretty to die, mother," he replies, grinning when his daughter laughs.

Satisfied that his mother can look after Alexis, the author looks back over to her, with something so serious and solemn in his eyes that her cheeks flush. He walks towards her, certain and powerful and the blush spreads to her neck.

"Thank you," he says sombrely. "For saving my life."

She smiles. "Don't mention it."

Castle nods, clenching his jaw. "You know, I could've - I could've accepted it, if it had just been me, you know? But if anything had happened to Alexis…"

She doesn't know what to say to that. She doesn't think she'll ever understand that feeling. She doesn't think she wants to.

"Your investigation isn't over, is it?

"What gives you that idea?"

"There's something else here. The robbers were too careful to just blow themselves up. They must be covering for something."

"I can't discuss an ongoing investigation with a civilian, Mr Castle," she teases.

He groans. "Call me Mr Castle again. That was hot."

Kate flushes again, blinking a couple times and feeling downright embarrassed. Honestly, she's acting like a _teenager._

"Tell you what," the writer says, shifting his weight from foot to foot and watching her carefully. "Once your investigation's done, would you like to go out to dinner?"

She startles. "Are you asking me out on a date?"

He smiles self-deprecatingly. "Am I that bad at it?"

"No, no. It's just - you don't even really know me."

"I owe you my life. The least I can do is buy you dinner."

She resists the urge to cartwheel with joy - this is her _favourite writer - _and settles for simply smiling instead.

"Okay," she accepts, biting her lip. "I'll go out on a date with you."

His whole face brightens at the worlds and she feels her heart trip up in its beat. Stupid, ridiculous man, who keeps looking at her like she's the small wonders of earth, like the sun which gives the moon its light, or the moon that gives the sea its tide. Nobody has really looked at her like that since - well, ever.

He gives her his number and she promises to call him, even if she crosses her fingers behind her back as she does. It's just… this has all stemmed from a traumatic event. How does she know that she's really what he wants? And is she ready to just be used, to be another one of his conquests? She's not sure if empty one night stands are particularly beneficial for her mental health right now.

"You know, you're absolutely beautiful," he tells her.

She looks down. "Go back to your daughter, Mr Castle."

"Yes ma'am."

She laughs, watching him go with a smile on her face for a moment, before sighing and turning away, returning back to the dark world his light had guided her from.

* * *

**TBC**

* * *

**tumblr:** andiloveyoukate**  
twitter:** _closingdoors


	2. Chapter 2

**may flowers**

**Chapter Two**

* * *

She doesn't call him.

Or, at least, not immediately.

They close the case and save the child and his mother. Relief flows through them all, and Ryan takes the weekend off to spend time with his soon to be wife. They don't let the pair of them go without a real, life-affirming goodbye party, which they leave halfway through anyway. Even captain Gates joins in on the fun.

She gives Esposito a ride home that night, waiting for him to say something.

"That was a close call," he says.

"It was."

"Makes you wonder, doesn't it? About all the things you wished you'd done, if you knew your life was going to end in such an everyday place?"

It feels as though her phone in her jacket pocket is burning.

"Yeah, it does," she agrees softly, pulling up outside his apartment.

"What would you do, Beckett? If you lived every day as though it were your last?"

She looks down, biting her lip. The phone burns brighter and so does the scar on her chest. A lot of things burn, nowadays. Mostly, everything just hurts.

"I don't know," she answers at last, and then looks over at him. "What would you do?"

Esposito wiggles his eyebrows. "Well, tonight I'm gonna call Lanie. We'll see how it goes from there."

She laughs, shaking her head. "Have a good night, Espo."

"You too, Beckett."

Her apartment is cold and empty and lonely when she gets home. The sink is piled high with dishes she's yet to get round to washing, and her trash is overflowing with take out boxes and ramen noodles packaging. She sighs, dumping her keys and bags on the counter and, as usual, skips food. Her body is aching, tired, bones brittle and creaking even as she moves into the bathroom and runs a shower. The warmth feels as though it should massage her tight muscles, but instead she just finds herself growing frustrated when she's unable to relax, hot tears bubbling from her eyes that she can't prevent, and eventually she sits down and lets them pour out, accepting the moment until the water turns cold.

She takes twice the amount of sleeping pills she normally would that night, and ignores the fact that Richard Castle's number is in her phone.

Esposito's words are troubling her, and as she slips into bed and the pills finally begin to take effect, she really does try to think of what she would do. If she lived every day as though it were her last.

Her fingers find the ring hanging on a chain around her neck.

Sighing, she lets her heavy eyelids close, and has nightmares about the moon bleeding.

* * *

It takes her a week to call him.

She almost never does. But then the boys have a ridiculous adventure in Atlantic City and suddenly she finds herself wishing she had someone to tell it to other than her father, someone she doesn't have to give the PG rated version to to save them both from embarrassment. Besides, there's no harm in trying, right?

Settling on her couch with a half-drunk glass of wine that evening, Kate gives herself five pep talks before pressing the call button.

It almost goes to voicemail and she's ready to give up, but then -

"Richard Castle."

"Hi! Uh," she clears her throat, fingers flexing around the glass in her hand, "it's me. Kate Beckett. From - "

"The bank. I remember," he pauses. "I thought you weren't going to call."

She ducks her head in shame. "Yeah, I've been… busy. One of our detectives took some time off so we were a little thin on the ground and - "

"It's okay. You don't have to make excuses."

He doesn't sound angry, and she bites her lower lip, paying close attention to the tone of his voice. Had he been Josh, the excuses would've continued to flow, until they both lulled themselves into a false sense of security that their relationship was in some way healthy and happy because they both had to make excuses sometimes, that there was never really an imbalance of importance between them.

"Sorry," she says again. "I guess I… Really, I thought you might have changed your mind."

"Me? Why would I change my mind?"

She shrugs even though he can't see her.

"I don't know. I guess… I thought the offer was an impulsive one. You know, because I helped save you from the bank. I didn't know if you really meant it."

Why is she telling him this? Shut up, Beckett.

"Of course it was impulsive. Still meant it, though. Nobody else has made Mr Castle sound so hot before."

Surprised, she laughs, taking a sip of her wine. "Is that right, Mr Castle?"

He groans. "Unless you want this phone call to turn into something different real quickly, I'd suggest you stop calling me that."

It almost feels dangerous, this conversation, but she likes how he makes her feel, even through the little amount of time they've actually spent talking to one another. He's… not childish, per se, but free spirited, enthusiastic in some ways that she's not. It's a nice balance. It's nice to break away from the dark, empty corners of her mind and her apartment for this.

"So, you were promising to take me out somewhere real fancy and expensive and devote precious hours of your time to impressing me, Castle," she teases, drinking more wine. Probably a bad idea to keep drinking on the phone to him. She's pretty sure she was already halfway to tipsy when she called.

"Oh, I was, was I?" He asks, laughing. "Name a time and date and I'll arrange something, Kate."

It's the first time he's said her name and she feels a shiver run through her.

"This Friday. I only work until five."

"I'll pick you up at eight. That's a reasonable enough time for make up stuff, right?"

"Are you implying that I need a lot of time and make up to make myself look good, Castle?"

His voice gets low and makes her shiver again. "I'm sure you look good with nothing on."

She clears her throat, taking one last gulp of wine and setting the empty glass on her coffee table. Yep. Definitely dangerous. She loves it.

"What about your daughter, Alexis?" She asks. "I mean, is she okay with - with you seeing me?"

"Oh, well she doesn't know. I don't usually tell her until things look like they're going well."

She nods, forgetting he can't see her, and her accidental silence seems to panic him.

"Not that I don't think this will go well, of course, you are - you seem extraordinary and I really do like you but - "

"Don't worry, Castle. I get it. She's your daughter. You want to protect her."

"Right. Yeah, exactly."

Silence falls between them again, and she makes no attempt to break it, and neither does he. She can hear him breathing. She thinks that maybe it should be awkward, and then wonders why it isn't.

"So, given that your friend was in that bank, I assume you don't normally work hostage situations."

"Isn't the getting to know each other step supposed to happen on the date?"

"Well, just think, when we do go, we can get to know each other even better," he sing-songs, and she smiles fondly.

"No," she answers his first question. "I don't normally work hostage situations."

"Let me guess. Homicide?"

"How did you know?" She asks, surprised.

"You're so serious, for the most part. Only someone who tries to give the dead a voice can be as serious as you are."

"I… Thank you?"

"It was a compliment."

She grins then. "But you're not exactly serious yourself, Castle. And your books are dedicated to giving the dead a voice."

"I knew it! You are a fan!"

Kate blushes. "No," she retorts too quickly. "I've just heard of your books, that's all. Maybe I've read one."

"Or two. Or three. Or maybe twenty two best sellers?"

She rolls her eyes. "Okay. So maybe I am a fan. It's purely coincidental and not a big deal."

He gasps theatrically. "Did you stage the hostage situation just so that you could go on a date with your number one author, Kate?"

"You caught me," she deadpans. "This was my evil, evil plan all from the very beginning."

"But you're too pretty to be a serial stalker."

"I model to pay the bills."

He laughs at that and she finds herself laughing along too, almost feeling blessed for being able to go so long without thinking about the darker fringes of her life. He distracts her. It's a good distraction, she thinks.

"Oh, wait, one second Kate," he says, and then she hears muffled voices for a second before he returns. "Ah, that's Alexis. She just got herself out of the bath and wants me to read her a bedtime story. Sorry."

Her heart seizes at the idea of him being such a wonderful, doting dad. It's what's making this whole situation less surreal, she thinks, the fact that he's so different to how she's always pictured him, to how page six has made him out to be. He's… a genuinely caring man. And he's actually interested in her and not getting into her pants. Though she supposes he wouldn't mind the latter.

"That's fine. I'll see you Friday, Castle. I'll text you my address," she says.

"Until Friday, Kate."

She grins to herself. She's going on a date with Richard Castle.

Shaking her head, she deposits the glass on her kitchen counter, adding to the small amount of mess that's began to accumulate there after having cleaned the last pile two days ago.

The scars along her side ache and tug and burn when she tries to sleep, but she's out of sleeping pills, and she throws the empty bottle to her floor in frustration.

At four in the morning she finally gets to sleep, and has nightmares about her skin turning to blisters.

* * *

"So," Lanie says on Thursday, stripping off her gloves and tossing them in the bin, "wine and junk food night tomorrow?"

Kate stuffs her hands in her pockets, looking down at the dead body of their latest victim, Debra Mills, laying on Lanie's morgue table between them. She's actually been keeping the news of Castle to herself, only because she thinks it feels a little more real that way. She supposes Lanie was always going to find out anyway.

"Actually, I have plans tomorrow night."

"Oh really?"

She doesn't miss the interest in her best friend's voice. It makes her lips twist up into a smirk.

"I have a date."

"What?!" Lanie cries, rounding the table to pull Kate away from the dead body and forcing her to meet her eyes. "You're telling me that you, Kate Beckett, are voluntarily going on a date that I didn't set you up on?"

Kate laughs. "God, Lanie, you make it sounds like I don't have a life."

"That's because you don't," Lanie responds. "Now, tell me everything. Who is he? How'd you meet him?"

"Well," Kate says, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "I met him at the bank. When Jenny was in there. He was one of the hostages."

Her friend frowns. "One of the hostages?"

"Mm-hm," she replies nonchalantly. "Actually, I think you might know him. Richard Castle."

If she were living in a cartoon world, Kate's sure that in that moment Lanie's jaw would've hit the floor. At the look on her friend's face, she has to press her lips together and concentrate on not laughing. Really hard.

"Are you kidding me?"

"No, I'm not."

"You actually have a date with Richard Castle, playboy millionaire?"

Kate shifts uncomfortably. "I'm not sure that I'd call him a playboy. He's actually a really sweet guy."

Her friend shakes her head. "I cannot believe you would keep this from me. You land a millionaire that you've had a crush on for years and it just so happens to slip your mind that thats something most normal people would tell their friends?"

"I guess it just seemed… like a nice secret. Besides, I don't know that it'll work out," Kate says, shrugging. "I mean, he has a daughter. What kind of role would I have there? She doesn't even know we're going out on a date. What about my job? I don't know if he'll always be understanding of the fact that sometimes I may have to cancel, or that there are things I'm not willing to talk to him about. And what happens when the effect of trauma wears off? Will he stop and realise that his impulsive move wasn't one he actually wanted to take?"

"Okay, I'm going to stop you there before you melt into full-scale panic mode," Lanie says, placing her hands on Kate's arms. "You are a gorgeous, intelligent, funny woman, and he would be crazy not to want you. Trauma or no trauma. As for the little girl, well, I guess that's something you'll figure as you go along."

Kate releases a slow, deep breath.

"Are you sure?"

"Girl, I'mma smack you. I don't say this stuff just for the Hell of it," she says, nudging Kate. "Really. I know things with Josh ended badly, and that you're wary of dating, but, like you said, he's a sweet guy. It must be worth a shot."

"Yeah," she murmurs, ducking her head when she feels an affectionate smile for the man rising to her lips. "Must be."

* * *

**TBC**

* * *

**tumblr: **andiloveyoukate**  
twitter: **_closingdoors


	3. Chapter 3

**may flowers**

_Thank you for your words on this fic of mine so far.  
_

* * *

**Chapter Three  
**

That Friday afternoon, she keeps her eyes on the clock, waiting for five to roll around.

"What's up, Beckett? Excited for your date?" Ryan teases, nudging Esposito.

"It's not every day you land a millionaire," Esposito adds, grinning mischievously.

Kate glares at them. "Lanie told you?"

Ryan looks completely innocent, eyes wide. She turns her steely gaze to his partner, who has the good grace to at least look a little uncomfortable, and shrugs and mutters while he looks back down at his paperwork, pretending to frown at the page. She sighs, sitting back in her chair. She had known this would happen anyway.

"Okay, yes, it's true. I'm going on a date with Richard Castle," she says, the words feeling foreign on her tongue. "But, unless you want me to tell Jenny and Lanie about the dancer in Atlantic City, I'd suggest you keep your mouths shut."

The ribbing from them ends then, and she wears a smug, gloating smile for the rest of the afternoon. Impatience gets the better of her when she has nothing to do, and she practically offers to make coffee for everyone in the precinct - even though the stuff they have is gross - and completes all of her paperwork before four. She thinks even maybe Captain Gates grows slightly suspicious of her actions.

When five finally does eventually come, she's buttoning up her coat and shouldering her bag before the boys can even blink, despite her shaking hands.

Okay. Maybe she's a little more nervous than excited.

She tries to relax in the bath, keeping an eye on the time to make sure that she doesn't fall to sleep. She's too worked up to relax though, and ends up getting out when the water's still warm.

Her wardrobe feels empty when she sifts through it, searching for the perfect dress. What kind of restaurant is he going to take her out to? Will he really go for expensive and fancy? Or will he know that kind of thing is uncomfortable for her? Worrying her lower lip with her teeth, she finally settles on a black lacy dress that dips low enough on her chest to be cheeky, but the loose flowing skirt settles just below her mid-thigh, modest enough. Plus, she knows her eyes look great in this one.

Her hands tremble as she applies her make up, not going overboard, but smiling at herself in the mirror when her eyes look just the right amount of smoky to be dangerous. She runs her hands through her hair, uncertain, before finally opting to pull it up into a braided bun. It's difficult with her hands shaking, strands of her hair slipping from her fingers occasionally, but she eventually manages it. For good measure, she rummages through her cupboards for the over the counter anxiety pills she'd bought a few weeks back, swallowing a few dry and shaking her head when she realises how much of a walking pharmacy she's become.

She's fine.

But she makes sure that the window shutters that reveal her mom's murderboard are firmly shut.

* * *

The knock on her door comes ten minutes early and she laughs, slipping her heels on and opening the door to find Castle grinning sheepishly at her behind a bouquet of flowers. He looks good.

"Hey."

"You're early."

"A queen is never early. Everyone else is simply late," he says nonchalantly, the crinkles around his eyes appearing when she laughs.

"Did you just adapt a line from The Princess Diaries?"

"What can I say, I have a seven year old daughter who loves the movie."

"Sure, Castle, use that excuse."

He doesn't even look embarrassed. Simply holds the bouquet out to her. "These are for you."

"Thank you. They're beautiful," she says, smiling, and thumbing a petal. "Sunflowers?"

"Sunflowers signify warmth and happiness," he tells her, no doubt reciting lines that the florist had fed him. "They made me think of you."

She blushes, despite how much she would never associate herself with warmth of happiness. That sinking feeling gnaws away at her stomach - he thinks she's someone she's not. Maybe she was that person once. But after the shooting at Montgomery's funeral…

"Too much?"

Kate startles, looking up at Castle, who watches her with concern. Silent. She'd been silent for too long.

"No. No, they're perfect. Thank you. I'll go put them in some water."

Without invitation, Castle follows her into her apartment, exploring her living room. He stares at the painting of the woman in a war zone for too long, eyes flickering back to her with interest when she places the flowers in a vase.

"You have an interesting taste," he says, running his hands over an ornament she'd bought in Moscow.

"Interesting is one way to put it."

"No, it's nice. Different."

Kate shrugs, glancing around her apartment, before grabbing her purse.

"You're not taking a jacket?"

"If I get cold, I'll just use yours," she says, smirking.

She doesn't miss his own smile.

"By the way," he says, placing a hand on the small of her back as they walk to the elevator, making her hold her breath, "you look beautiful tonight, Kate."

She toys with her clutch. "You're not so bad yourself, Castle," she returns shyly.

His car is neither overstated nor under. She's surprised, thinking that a millionaire like him would take a town car, perhaps even a limo that she's seen in page six countless times before. At her confused look, he simple wiggles his eyebrows at her, somehow still charming, and she slips into the car, a content silence falling between the two of them as he drives. She pretends not to catch the way his eyes look over at her - the way he looks at her is… dangerous.

They eventually pull up at a restaurant that she's only heard of through Lanie before, who'd once wanted to get in there when it first opened. Admittedly, she'd always wanted to come too. A gorgeous seafood restaurant that, apparently, sold beautiful wine.

Castle practically runs around the other side of the car when they park, holding open her door and offering her a hand before she can blink. In spite of herself, Kate finds herself smiling fondly and accepting the hand. When she climbs from the car, she realises that she's almost eye height with him in heels. Perfect.

"Okay?" He asks, close enough for the word to go right through her.

She releases her hold on his hand. "Perfect. I've always wanted to come here."

"I hear it's wonderful."

She shoots him a look as they walk inside, waiting until he's booked them in to reply.

"You expect me to believe that Richard Castle, millionaire playboy, has never taken a woman here before?"

He shakes his head, slow and serious. "I've never been here before."

They're shown to their table, and Kate looks round in amazement. The place has Frank Sinatra playing softly, following a warm brown and cream colour scheme, the candles between them alight and smelling like… is that jasmine?

"This place is amazing," she says, fingers tracing the leather jacket of the menu. "Really."

"I'm glad you like it," is all he says.

Her eyes almost bug out of her skull when she notices the price of the food. And that's just for the starters. Her savings are really gonna take a hit. She supposes going on a date with a millionaire never would've come cheaply.

"Don't worry about price," he says, as though he's read her mind. "Not that I'm saying you couldn't afford it. But, I'll pay."

"No, Castle, we can split -"

"Aw, c'mon Kate. Allow me my moment of chivalry," he says, pretending to puff his chest out.

She laughs, shaking her head. "You're ridiculous."

"Funny, that's what my daughter says too."

They order their food happily, along with their wine for the evening. She lets him decide on that, since he's paying, and he doesn't disappoint. The moment she takes a sip she finds herself humming. It's good stuff.

Richard Castle bought her good wine.

"So, tell me, Kate. Why homicide?"

She shrugs. "Why do you write mystery books?"

"Touché."

Kate foolishly thinks that, maybe, he's let it go, that she's outwitted him and they can back to some form of date talk that doesn't revolve around the dark patches of her life. She doesn't quite think she wants him to ever see those.

Ever? So she's not thinking long term?

She fights the urge to frown. Why would she? This is Richard Castle. She's just a cop. It's a wonder that she's even here to begin with and, she knows, that if she invites him back to her place tonight, she'll only wake up to an empty bed in the morning. She's not stupid, and she's not disillusioned to what this misguided date of his is, some chivalrous way of thanking her for inadvertently saving his life in the bank robbery. Richard Castle doesn't do long term. She's read enough pages on page six to know that.

What would long term with Richard Castle mean, anyway? How would it work? He has a _daughter_, a young girl with hair like fire and maturity beyond her years. That little girl still has innocence about her, despite her blatant maturity. And how could Kate ever bring herself to get close to this beautiful man, to his innocent daughter, knowing that she could destroy them both?

It wouldn't be fair on them.

"I've no doubt you're smart. I saw all of those books on your shelf at your apartment. Hemingway, Dickens, Bukowski. You're well read," he says, sipping his wine. "But a homicide cop. It just doesn't… fit."

She shrugs. "Then what does?"

"Hmm… well, you're stunning, and intelligent. And bossy. I've seen the way you order men around," he pauses to wiggle his eyebrows at her then, and she rolls her eyes. "A CEO? Lawyer? Those options… sociably acceptable options. They fit a little better."

A lawyer.

Kate drops her eyes to her wine, picking absently at the tablecloth with trembling fingers.

"I'm sorry," he says. "We don't have to talk about it."

"Thanks," she croaks hoarsely, taking a gulp of wine.

Their starters come then and diffuse the tension. She's never been so relieved to see food in her entire life. In fact, she thinks maybe she's a little too eager, because their waiter scurries away almost instantly. Castle laughs at that.

"So how's your friend? Jenny, I believe her name is?" He asks between bites of his meal.

Kate hums around her first bite. Holy crap, the stuff is delicious.

"She's doing well. Jenny's the fiancée of a member of my team, actually. Detective Ryan. They're getting married in three weeks."

"Well, tell them I wish them well. If you want," he adds. "Marriage isn't for everyone."

"You were married twice."

"Those were dark, dark times indeed," he says, so seriously she can't help but roll her eyes. "What about you, detective? Ever married?"

"Nope," she replies easily, finishing her starter. "I'm more of a one and done kind of girl."

The way he's watching her changes then. Something soft and understanding in his blue eyes. It makes her cheeks flush so she looks down at her wine again, fingers twisting around the stem of the glass. What is it about this man that makes her feel so transparent? She's not too sure if it's an entirely comfortable feeling. It's unfamiliar, and new, almost unsettling. Yet, she doesn't really want him to stop looking at her that way.

"You're a romantic," he says, and she nods.

The waiter returns then, eyeing her a little suspiciously, much to Castle's amusement. He collects their plates, refills their wine, and serves their main course a few minutes later. The scent of the candles still hangs around them.

"What about Alexis?" Kate asks, twirling spaghetti around her fork. "It must've been traumatic for her."

Castle purses his lips. "She's a very mature child."

"Shocking, given you're her father," she replies, laughing when he looks disgruntled. "But really. That kind of thing must leave it's mark."

"I suppose it must do. But she's always been much more serious and withdrawn than I am. She'll talk to me about it when she's ready."

Kate nods, accepting the answer, thinking back to the young redheaded girl who'd trembled against her father when they'd stormed the bank. Had the maturity to be wary of Kate. She wonders if those pale wrists of hers are still bruised.

"And you, Castle?"

"What about me?"

"How are you? After everything that happened in the bank."

Castle's eyebrows stitch together, and he makes himself busy by taking too large a bite, attempting to distract her with comedy.

"I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be fine?"

"Well, it was a traumatic event. You're allowed to be affected by it," she comments, and her scars burn.

"Nothing but inspiration up in here," he says too quickly, tapping against the side of his forehead. "Expect my new book to be all about bank hostages and beautiful police detectives."

She lets the subject drop, sensing she's not going to get any truths out of him. Not that she supposes he owes them to her. She's as much a stranger to him as he is to her, and they're both hiding the dark spots from each other. Somehow, she thinks her darker spots are vaster than his own, much more terrifying and lonely.

"So, any interesting cases recently, detective?" he asks as they finish their mains.

"Actually, we had one that prompted the boys to go to Atlantic City recently," she tells him, sipping her wine.

His eyes light up. "Ooh. Atlantic City. Were there strippers?"

She rolls her eyes, groaning. "How did I know you were gonna ask that?"

"I'm just trying to gather all of the vital information about the investigation," he responds innocently, face neutral. "I don't want to miss anything."

"Well, I'll have you know, Castle, that there weren't strippers. There may have been at the impromptu bachelor's party Esposito arrange for Ryan after the killer was caught, though."

Their desserts arrive, and he laughs when she grins at the size of the chocolate gateau she's served. He opted for something less sickly, but the dessert waffles he's been served with ice cream and fruit catches her eyes nonetheless.

"I have no idea where you put it all," he says, laughing, as she brazenly reaches forward to steal part of his waffle. "You eat everything."

Kate grins, taking a bite of her dessert and sliding the fork between a lips for just a little longer than necessary. Castle groans.

"Do you have any idea what kind of effect you have on men?" he asks her brazenly.

She drips sugar into her voice, brushing her foot against the inside of his calf. His eyes lock on hers.

"I think I have some idea."

They finish soon after that, and when they leave the restaurant and begin walking to his car, she regrets not bringing a jacket immediately. Castle drapes his coat around her shoulders though, and she smiles into the soft, thousand dollar fabric that dwarves her, opting to say nothing when he uses it as an excuse to keep his arm around her shoulders. Even drifts closer to his side a little, drunk on the surreality of the moment.

"I'll walk you up," he says, when they park outside her building.

She tries to tell her beating heart to stop going so fast.

"I had a really nice time tonight, Castle," she tells him softly as they ride the elevator up to her floor. A weary looking older man steps onto the elevator with them the floor before hers. She lets her hand brush Castle's.

"Me too, Kate," he murmurs.

When they reach her door, she shrugs off his jacket, feeling the cold instantly even though they're inside. He accepts it slowly, something cautious in his movements.

"Look, Castle…" she starts, fiddling with her keys. "I haven't done this - dating - in a while. Things got kinda messy with my ex and, well, with some pretty messed up things that have happened recently, I kinda decided that I was going to stay away from dating for a while and just look out for myself, you know?"

Castle nods slowly. "Kate, I was telling the truth when I told you I hadn't been to that restaurant before."

She smiles. "Well. Now you have."

He tilts his head. "No. You don't understand what I'm saying."

She raises her eyebrows.

"I know you say you're not a fan, but you've read about me. I can tell. You've read all the kinds of dates I go on for publicity, the ones with blonde models and limos and whatever else it is my publicist thinks will sell."

She ducks her head. "Well, it's not like have anything else to base my knowledge on," she defends.

He sighs, pushing a hand through his hair nervously. He's looking at her like she's everything again.

"Kate, we didn't travel by limo because I guessed that wasn't your thing. I took you to a restaurant that I'd never been to before because you're special. I didn't try to impress you with lame pick up lines and name dropping. Because you're real, Kate. I… I really like you. I do. And I get it, if you want to believe the papers instead of me. But I'd like to do this again."

Her eyes flick up to his. "You would?"

"Of course. I want to get to know you, Kate. And not just because you saved my life. God, do you know the last time a woman asked if my daughter would be okay with me going on a date? Even her own mother has less regard for her than that."

She blushes. "I was just trying to be a good person."

"And you are."

She bites her lip, fighting the urge to frown. This is going differently to how she expected. She thought she was just going to be one of his conquests, and as much as that probably wasn't healthy for her, she wasn't exactly opposed to the idea. But now… Richard Castle wants to take her on a second date. He hasn't even attempted to get into her pants.

Her heart flutters.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay. I'll go on a second date with you."

She's surprised he doesn't cartwheel, his face breaks out into such light.

"Next weekend?"

She laughs. "We haven't even finished this date and you're trying to arrange the next one?"

"Are you complaining?"

She smiles wryly. "Saturday. I have next Saturday off."

He sticks his hand out between them, bowing slightly. "Until Saturday, detective."

Kate rolls her eyes, slipping her hand into his and then tugging him closer, until she can kiss his cheek. She feels the surprise ricochet through him, his hand gripping hers tightly until she leans back and lets go.

"Goodnight, Castle."

"Goodnight, Kate," he says, all low and smooth and making her think about dragging him inside so he can say good morning, too.

As usual, her apartment is quiet and dark, and she doesn't hesitate to strip off on her way to her bedroom, bypassing the empty pill bottle on the floor and falling into bed in her underwear.

That night she has nightmares about little girls with blood the same colour as their hair.

* * *

**TBC**

* * *

**twitter: **_closingdoors**  
tumblr: **andiloveyoukate


	4. Chapter 4

**may flowers**

* * *

**Chapter Four**

* * *

The next few days pass pretty normally. Ryan and Esposito tease her about her date the next day, and wear matching grins when they notice her blushing and trying her hardest to intimidate them with a glare. Eventually, she wins and they go scampering off to their desks, chastened by her look.

They investigate the murder of a young man, Jay Brooks, for the next few days. It's a relatively simple, run of the mill murder, involving a mistress and a jealous wife. The paperwork is mundane, and she finds herself counting down the days to Saturday. Which is just ridiculous. One date and she's already pining to see him again?

Her phone buzzes. Castle.

_Hypothetically, how would someone break out of holding?_

_Why, are you planning on breaking out?_

She returns to her paperwork, running a hand through her hair.

_Maybe in the future. For now, it's for writing. What use is there to dating a cop if I can't ask her important questions to save myself from googling illegal activity?_

He says it so casually. Dating.

Holy crap. She's dating _Richard Castle._

Kate shakes her head, focusing on the text.

_You can't break out of holding. That's kind of the point._

_Oh, come on, your faith in the budget of the New York police department can't be *that* high._

_Well, the moment someone breaks out, I'll be sure to let you know how they did it. Not that it will ever happen. Because it's impossible._

_Spoilsport._

Kate grins, pulling her lower lip between her teeth.

She's dating Richard Castle.

* * *

"So," Lanie says, when she visits the morgue at lunch the next day. "We haven't had a chance to talk about your date with Richard Castle."

Three days have passed since the date, and she still feels pleasantly warm all over as a result of it, still feeling that shiver, a thrill, pass through her when he looks at her like she's everything. She's dating Richard Castle, author of her favourite books, and he's so sweet and gentle and caring in real life. Everything that she needs right now.

Kate lifts herself up onto one of the tables, swinging her legs and pursing her lips.

"No, we haven't."

Lanie glares. "Give me something better than that to go on."

Laughing, Kate curls her fingers around the edges of the table, the metal cool under her hands. It's no secret to her that Lanie will want every last detail. More than enough times, Lanie's professed her admiration for the man, because of the amount of detail he puts into the dead. Not every author takes the time to figure out the realistic biology of how the body works post morterm, she'd said, the man has skill.

"It was lovely, Lanie. He was… funny, and sweet. He took me to this amazing seafood restaurant - you know the one you've always wanted to go to?"

Lanie's eyes light up. "Go on."

"The food was so good, and I thought it would be awkward but," Kate shrugs, "the conversation just flowed pretty easily, I guess."

Lanie moves to stand in front of Kate, raising her eyebrows. Oh no. She knows that look. That's the look that means they're about to talk about sex. Wow, jeez, sex with Richard Castle. That thought sounds strange, even if she has worn his jacket when it was cold, and ran her foot up his leg when they had dessert.

"And after the date?"

"Nothing happened, Lanie," she tells her sternly, watching as her friend huffs. "But we did arrange to go out again on Saturday."

Lanie shrieks, wrapping Kate up in a hug, almost pulling her from the table. She finds herself laughing, arms awkwardly taut by her sides as her friend jumps up and down. She waits it out.

"You're serious?" Lanie says, pulling away at last. "You're actually dating this guy?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I am," Kate confirms, grinning.

"Oh, Kate. He's going to be so good for you. I can just tell."

Kate ducks her head, allowing her hair to blanket her expression.

"I hope so."

* * *

The next day, the sniper case arrives.

She's feeling good that day. She teases Castle over the phone while she's getting ready about the fact that Alexis took it upon herself to give him a Disney princess inspired makeover, and tells him he's finally become the queen he told her he was on their first date. She has to hang up pretty quickly when her PT instructor calls, and she feels guilt niggling away at the back of her mind - she should tell Castle, she knows. Warn him that she's damaged, not whole. That it takes sleeping pills to knock her out at night and she's been having nightmares every night for almost five months now. Instead, she tells him that the precinct's calling her, and smiles when he tells her he's going to plan their date for Saturday.

And then.

Her scar burns. It has before. Sometimes, especially the one on her side, tugs when she's at crime scenes, or going about daily life. But this is different. This is a bone-aching, whole body feeling, as she studies the young woman sniped to death on the sidewalk.

Didn't even feel a thing. Couldn't hold on long enough to watch the lights go out.

Kate closes her eyes, trying to force away the images of her own shooting. There were no warning signs. One moment, she was giving her speech, and the next thing she knows it hurt everywhere and she couldn't move or breathe and everyone was screaming, the sky above her such a violently bright shade of blue, before she succumbed to the heavy pressure on her eyelids and felt the darkness envelop her.

Everything is a struggle that day. It's hard, and it hurts, and she knows she has to keep her focus. But she can't. There are flashes before her eyes. Blood. Screaming.

She goes home and studies her body in the mirror. It feels grotesque, foreign, as she trails her fingers along her sides, tracing every bump and ridge of her surgical scars. They're not as violent and raw as the one between her breasts, have practically faded, but she knows that they're there, a line running along the dip of her waist and marring her forever. She turns, fingers tracing over her skin, finding the rough, healing skin between her breasts, a contradiction if there ever was one. She tilts her head, trying to think of how she could've possibly survived this. A bullet entered her body here. It tore her insides, ripped her apart.

She hasn't exactly been the same since.

Kate shivers, fingers curling around the bullet scar, trying to make sense of the fact that this person in the mirror is her. It doesn't feel like it. It doesn't feel like her at all.

Beside her, her phone buzzes.

_Saturday daytime good for you?_

Castle.

She frowns, locking her phone without texting him back.

This isn't something she wants him to see. Maybe it had been wrong to agree to a second date.

* * *

She gets three more texts from him that day.

_Coming in, coming in: Saturday daytime?_

_This just in: Bestselling author has nothing else to do with his time but text homicide detective who seems to be choosing to ignore him._

_Are you okay?_

* * *

The grass is hard yet soft against her back.

Beckett yells, screams and blood playing before her eyes. Darting forward, she closes her blinds with a sharp snap. The alcohol and mix of pills she took earlier are beginning to take effect. She isn't alert enough. They're coming.

Who?

Someone. Someone's coming.

Bang.

She yells again, lungs vacant of oxygen as she falls to the floor, cutting herself on the shards of glass that litter the wood. Fuck. What is happening? What's going on?

Blue. Blue sky. Dying.

All alone.

She grabs her gun.

She's not safe.

Kate crawls into the smallest space between her couch and a table making herself as small as possible while she maintains a heavy grip on her gun. No. No. She's safe. She has to be safe. They can't kill her today.

She's close. With her mom's case. She's close. She can't -

Her whole body seizes up and she yelps when a sound echoes on the table beside her. Startling, Kate's head snaps up to see it's just her phone ringing. She grabs the phone with shaky hands, ignoring the blood running down her arm, staring at the caller ID. Castle.

She lets it go to voicemail.

Soon enough, the phone chimes with a notification for a voicemail. Pressing a hand to her chest, she notes how her heart is beginning to slow back to a normal rate, and she blinks a couple times, drinking in the room around her.

She's safe. It was just a panic attack.

Setting her gun down beside her, double checking the safety is on, she stares at the opposite side of the room as she listens to Castle's message.

_Hey, Kate. It's me. Look, uh… I get it, if you're having second thoughts. Just, let me know if you are, okay? I just… I keep getting this idea that you're in a ditch dying somewhere. I know. It's ridiculous. Writer's imagination. Just…. call me back soon?_

Kate sighs, resting her cheek on her knee, and pressing repeat. Letting his words drag her back into reality.

That night, she doesn't sleep.

* * *

Something inside her changes, after the sniper case. They solve it, after she bares her ugly scars to the sniper and Esposito kills him, dead. Right in front of her. No time to prepare for the life to drain from him.

Yet something about her just feels different. She can't tell if it's good or bad. She hopes it's not bad.

She can't handle any more bad business in her life.

When she steps off of the elevator that evening, she almost drops her keys in shock. Sitting in front of her door, asleep, is Richard Castle.

The man just does not let up.

Kate crouches down beside him, uncertain how to wake him. She settles with placing a cautious hand on his shoulder and shakes him gently, murmuring his name. A few seconds pass before he stirs, his eyelids fluttering again before his eyes focus on her.

"Now there's a sight I could wake up to everyday," he says, before his eyes widen and he registers where he is. "Kate?"

"You fell asleep in front of my door."

"That explains why my neck hurts like Hell," he says, rolling his neck and shoulders slightly before standing up, wincing a little. "What time is it?"

"Just a little after seven. Shouldn't you be looking after Alexis?"

"Her mother, Meredith, came by this morning and claimed she was going to look after her for the weekend," he explains. "I wouldn't be surprised if I get a call with her changing her mind."

Kate opens the door to her apartment and hesitates slightly, before sighing and stepping in and indicating for him to follow. He does so without question, watching her face carefully, and for once she wishes he wouldn't. She's ready to break, and can't handle the way his gaze burns through her skin.

"That must be hard. For Alexis," she says, closing the door.

But Castle's stopped paying attention, instead is inspecting the pile of dishes that have accumulated in her sink again. A pile of clothes sit beside the kitchen table, haphazard and unwashed. She's been meaning to get around to those. Then he steps further into her front room, towards the couches, and for once she resents how inquisitive, how curious this man is by nature. These are the deep, dark corners of her for only her to see.

His face goes from interested to a deep set anger when he notices the shards of glass spilled across the floor.

"I'm sorry. I wasn't expecting guests."

He doesn't turn towards her.

"I thought you were in danger. Or hurt, somewhere."

She swallows hard, setting her keys on the counter. Takes a step forward, and the sound echoes between them.

"I'm fine, Castle. It's just been a busy few days. That's what my job is like."

"Too busy to send a text?" He asks, turning towards her, and for the first time she thinks she could compare his eyes to ice. "To call me back? Let me know you were okay, at least?"

Taking a deep breath, she moves forward, closer to him, but he only takes a step back.

"I know, I know. I'm sorry. I should've - had the courtesy to text you, at least. I know that."

The words sound insincere when they fall from her lips and she grits her teeth, rubbing a hand across her face.

"Castle, I'm not - I'm not really in a good place right now. I know you think I'm this hero cop or something, but that's not… that's not me. Okay? I'm not a hero. I never will be. Please don't try and turn me into one."

A maelstrom of emotions thunder across his face then and he takes a few steps forwards, using his height over her to intimidate her, frighten her. She almost thinks she feels tears pricking at the back of her eyes. Fuck, she's a mess.

"When are you going to get that this isn't about the bank? This is about you. From the moment I saw you, braving to walk into a hostage situation, unarmed, all for the sake of your friend and a handful of people you've never met - from that moment. I knew I needed to know everything about you. You were so brave, so compassionate, handled the situation with my daughter so effortlessly. And then you act like it's nothing? How could I not fall for you?"

Her lips part, but nothing comes out. His chest heaves with exertion, staring at her helplessly, but it seems that he's not done yet.

"You have secrets, Kate, I get it. You hardly know me. I don't expect you to open up to me yet, the same way I won't to you," he says, softer this time, approaching her. "But I want to get to know you. I want there to be a day where you can open up to me."

He moves forward again, until he's close enough to touch. She remains completely still, watching him, shivering.

"You're intelligent. You're beautiful. You're so serious. You deal with death everyday. Yet you flirt and joke with me as though there's no such thing. How could I resist?"

Castle reaches out, taking her hand in his. His palms are smooth, gentle against her skin, surprisingly so for a man, but she supposes it's due to days of writing the lives of others instead of really living his own. They dwarf hers though, his tanned skin making her own look a sickly pale, the bones of her wrists jutting out a little too harshly, reedy. Her fingers flex against his, weak, more of a flutter, and watches as her skin plays over the blue and green colours of her veins.

"When was the last time you ate?"

She wraps her fingers around his with a little more pressure. She is strong. She's not weak, or vulnerable, or dainty. She's not.

"Yesterday. I was gonna order some Thai tonight."

Kate watches as Castle shakes his head in disapproval.

"I'm a very difficult person to get along with, Castle," she tells him softly. "I'm not good at letting people in.

"I can tell," he replies, and she huffs.

"But I… want to get to know you, too," she tells him, peering up at him. "Just be patient with me. Please?"

His hand moves against hers. Their palms kiss.

"For you, Kate," he says, "I can do that."

* * *

**TBC**


	5. Chapter 5

**may flowers**

* * *

**Chapter Five**

* * *

Kate yawns, stretching in her bed as the morning sun caresses her cheeks. She cracks her eyes open slightly, watching the way the early orange light slates against the colour of her comforter, makes shadows play on the walls. The shadows remind her of her recent nightmare - the ones that curled phantom hands around her shoulders, whispered in a language she didn't understand against the shell of her ear. Sighing, she drags her hand across her heavy eyelids, attempting to banish the images from her mind. Dwelling on the nightmares only makes them worse. They're there, and she knows to expect them every night. She'd just rather have the day to think clearly, at least.

The shower head spurts with water suddenly when she steps in a few minutes later. The sudden noise startles her and she jerks back into the shower door, yelping when she knocks a shampoo bottle over and it lands on her feet. Stupid - God, she's so _stupid._

Burying her face in her hands, Kate lowers herself to the shower floor on trembling knees. The spray turns too hot, harsh and abrasive against her skin, and peeking through the gaps between her fingers she watches and watches until her skin grows red. Almost like the blood staining her uniform after she'd been shot. Her father had sent for it to be meticulously dry cleaned, and her Aunt Theresa had sewn the hole ripped open by the bullet. But the mental damage was real, and ached, and although, when she left her father's cabin weeks too early, she'd told him she'd be fine, the first thing she had done was throw the uniform in the trash.

Kate hides her face in her knees then, blood singing as her skin burns. The tears are hot and real and fast and she can't stop them, so she lets her shoulders heave, and she claws against the shower floor when she forgets to breathe, and she closes her eyes and thinks of happier things every time a low, pained sob rips itself from her mouth.

She's glad the water is loud, and that the neighbours won't hear.

Most importantly, she's just glad she's alone.

* * *

She's watching the daylight sliver across her ceiling when there's a knock on the door. Kate frowns to herself, checking her watch to find it's only midday. Time's passing slowly today, it seems.

There's a louder knock at the door and she groans, dragging herself up from the couch. She hasn't invited anyone over, and she's pretty sure she wasn't meant to meet up with her dad for lunch. Unless she forgot.

Opening the door, her jaw drops when she finds Castle standing in her hallway, smiling happily, holding a basket that looks ridiculously too much like a picnic one.

"Castle?" She says, eyes fixating on the basket. "What're you doing here?"

"Well, I do believe that you agreed to a second date today," he tells her, holding up the basket. "I figured it's too cold outside for a picnic, but we could have one inside."

Her face floods with heat instantly, looking from the basket and back to his eyes. Genuine. There's no hint of the darkness, that haunted cerulean, that had been there yesterday, as he'd surveyed the glass scattered across her floor. He simply looks… happy. To see her. To spend time with her. The man bought a basket, a picnic, for Christ's sake. He's ridiculous.

She opens her mouth to protest, to say she hadn't thought he'd want to see her so quickly, not after yesterday. But he shakes the basket in his hands and she finds herself laughing, rolling her eyes and letting him in and honestly it's just ridiculous how smitten she is with this man after so little time knowing him.

"You're gonna have to move your coffee table," he tells her, setting the basket on her couch.

"Oh I am, am I?" She murmurs, smiling.

Castle sheds his jacket, wearing a v-neck jumper beneath that stretches across the width of his chest, and then he rolls up his sleeves to the elbow, revealing the play of muscles in his forearms. She looks away, at her coffee table, breathing through the sudden heat that flares through her stomach, sharp and loud. Damn it.

"For the blanket. We have to set out the picnic blanket, Kate," he says, as though it should be obvious.

"Or we could eat on the couch, like normal people," she deadpans.

Castle huffs, like a child, so she laughs, moving and helping him lift the coffee table. It's heavy, and she's wary of there being glass on the floor she'd missed while cleaning up last night, but eventually they place it directly in front of the couch, leaving space for the picnic blanket Castle hastens to lay out. It's stereotypical - red, and checkered, and she can't help but smother a smile when she sees it. And he's seems so content, to just spend time with her, on her apartment floor with all of the sandwiches and snacks he's packed - and it occurs to her that she's never known anyone like him.

Kate sits down on the blanket, legs crossed, and listens to him as he rattles off all of the food he brought with him, teasing her about the surprise he has saved for last. And this is one of those moments, she thinks, one of those moments that she wants to live in again and again.

She wants nothing more than this forever.

"I even brought plates," Castle sings, setting a paper plate in front of her (_Disney_) before pulling out the containers.

She arches an eyebrow. "Are you calling me a princess, Castle?"

His eyebrows furrow briefly, and then she gestures to the plate. He almost looks sheepish. It's cute.

"Leftover from Alexis's last birthday party," he answers, setting a container of grapes on the blanket. "But technically, you do have your own castle."

"I do?" She asks softly, looking down at the tuna salad sandwich she slides onto her plate.

He's quiet for a moment.

"Yeah, Kate," he admits. "You do."

That brings another smile to her lips. It's something he makes her do more than anyone else. Smile.

They don't linger on the moment, instead she watches in content silence as he unloads the rest of the food he brought with him. Tiny sandwiches, fruit, mini pizzas, cheese and crackers, meat skewers, chips. The list goes on, and she can't see how much food she's seeing. He even pulls out a bottle of wine, along with two glasses.

"Really, Castle? Wine in the middle of the day?"

"Pretend we're French."

She lets him pour her a glass anyway, accepting it with a soft thanks and hoping that will count for a lot more than it seems. She really is grateful he's here. She may not be ready for a relationship, but… she thinks she could _want_ to be. With him.

"Did you make all of this?" She asks, popping a grape into her mouth.

He nods. "Oh, yeah. It turns out that I have a lot of free time on my hands when my daughter isn't around."

"Alexis doesn't really seem like the type of child that needs a lot of attention."

"Oh, she's not. It's me who needs hers."

She rolls her eyes. Why is she not surprised?

"Plus, I figured that, you know, what with your job, you don't really have a lot of time to cook," he shrugs, as though it's not big deal, "so there'll be some leftover snacks for when you get home late. But it's not a permanent solution."

_Oh._ Kate feels a blush rise to her cheeks, gnawing on her lower lip. Nobody's ever - thought about her like that before. He's so compassionate, she thinks. He passes it off as nothing, picking up a second cheese sandwich, eating nonchalantly as she stares at him with nothing less than wonder.

He's beautiful.

"Thank you, Rick," she murmurs.

Castle says nothing, and she doesn't push.

* * *

Sitting with him like this is easy. They talk freely, of his ridiculous antics while researching for his books, of some of her more stranger cases that intrigue him, as well as ridiculous childhood memories, or his own experiences while raising his daughter on his own. Alexis is a good child, she's sure, but some of the stories he tells her make her howl with laughter, clutching her stomach. And the glow, the pure warmth he has when he speaks about his daughter is magnificent. She would gladly sit and watch him like this forever.

"You know, you said you had a surprise," she says nonchalantly as they place the containers of leftovers to the side.

"Ooh yes! Dessert."

Castle rifles through the basket, finding whatever it was he was looking for almost instantly. He hesitates, looking over at her cautiously. She raises her eyebrows.

"What, Castle?" She asks impatiently.

"Close your eyes," he instructs. Her eyebrows shoot up higher. "It's a surprise, Kate."

Swallowing nervously, Kate closes her eyes, realising that she trusts him. She really does. She knows that he won't do anything too stupid. It doesn't sounds stupid, either. There's the pop sound of a container being opened, a slight rustling, and then he murmurs for her to open her mouth. He must be leaning in close to her. His breath ghosts across her lips. They part automatically.

The first thing she tastes is chocolate, then, after biting down, something sweet and sharp at the same time. Strawberry. He's feeding her chocolate strawberries.

Kate hums, opening her eyes to find him close. She makes sure her eyes are locked on his when she leans in and takes another bite of the strawberry until he's only left holding the stem. His eyes fall to her lips, and he seems to hesitate; her heart thunders in her chest. Furious. Nervous.

The man made her chocolate strawberries.

Closing her eyes, she erases the gaps between them and presses her lips to his.

Instantly her body reacts to him, blood rushing through her veins and what starts off as soft and cautious suddenly becomes energetic. She pushes up on her knees, curling until her chest presses against his and his hands fall to her waist, hers cupping his cheeks as their lips work in tandem. Oh God. She's kissing Richard Castle. _She's making out with Richard Castle._

Her tongue slips out, slides hotly with his and one of his hands moves away from her waist, sliding across the material of her t-shirt before slipping underneath, finding her bare skin. It's hot and warm and she moans, hands fleshing out all of the solid, broad lines of him. He's tearing her apart with just a kiss.

Kate pulls away, panting heavily, and when she remembers to open her eyes he's already watching her, uncertain and afraid.

She leans in again, kisses him thoroughly and knots her hands in his hair. He groans, arms anchoring around her until they're pressed entirely together, her breasts crushed between them, knees knocking together even as hers ache from the hard floor. But oh, she couldn't stop if she wanted to. And they should stop. Should talk. But she wants nothing more than the feeling of alive for just one more moment.

"Kate," he pants against her lips and she moans again, hands fisting in his hair.

Their lips part with a loud smack that she thinks should be embarrassing, but instead she rests her head against his shoulder, trying to catch her breath. His hands slip from beneath her t-shirt and cradle between her shoulder blades, his own breath shallow against her ear.

"That was amazing," he whispers, gently kissing beneath her ear.

She shudders.

"Yeah," she agrees.

Eventually she remembers to pull away, looking up at him. His hair mussed, lips swollen from her kisses. She bites her own. He looks thoroughly ravished.

"This - I still - " She struggles with the words, can't make the right ones come out.

"You want to go slow. I know," he says, pressing a kiss to her cheek. "I get it."

She smiles, soft and slow. "I don't think I deserve you, Richard Castle."

He laughs, shaking his head and kissing her one last time. Still takes her breath away.

"You are extraordinary, Kate Beckett."

Without giving her time to argue, he lifts from his knees, standing and observing the mess around them. In her haste to kiss him she'd knocked the container of chocolate strawberries over, sending them flying in different directions across her living room floor.

"I guess we have quite a mess to clear up, huh?"

Biting her lip, Kate swiftly moves over to the kitchen, grabbing her dustpan and brush. She holds them up before him.

"How about I watch you clear it up instead?"

* * *

**TBC**


	6. Chapter 6

**may flowers**

* * *

_Thank you for your support._

* * *

**Chapter Six:**

* * *

The case she works in January is crazy. She wakes up handcuffed to Lanie after they had been drugged at a crime scene. And as much as she loves Lanie, there's only so long she can be trapped in a room with her listening about her recent problems with Esposito, especially when she's trying to find them a way out. Oddly, as she and her friend clamber on top of the box to escape the tiger, she's thinking about how much of a great story it would be to tell Castle - how much he would enjoy the surreality of it, if he were there with her.

Gates is far less pleased, and she avoids the reprimanding glare of her Captain when they get back to the precinct once they've processed the killers and the Agent leaves. The boys fill her in on the situation of the tiger, Esposito teasing Lanie that it'll be killed, which only makes the medical examiner roll her eyes and walk away.

"What? What'd I do?" Esposito says, turning back to Beckett and Ryan.

She narrows her eyes at him while Ryan laughs and claps him on the back. Before she has a chance to reply, however, she hears a loud, low voice shout _Kate!_ and mid-turn she finds herself crushed against a familiar, broad chest.

She instantly goes stiff, cheeks flaming as she can feel Ryan and Esposito's eyes on her. Confusion clouds her momentarily before she realises it's Castle, and she struggles from his grip. He doesn't seem to take offence, though, as she stares, blanching, at him, only reaches out to push her hair away from her face with one of his large hands.

"I'm so glad you're okay," he says breathlessly.

Instinctively, her cheek leans into his touch, before jerking back when she remembers where she is. Ryan and Esposito are practically giggling.

"Castle, what - what are you doing here?"

"I contacted your colleagues here, Detective Esposito and Ryan, when you weren't answering your phone today," he says, nodding to them, who grin innocently at her. In a lower voice just for her he adds, "Given what happened the last time you didn't answer my calls, I just thought I'd definitely make sure you were okay. But you were missing."

Ryan and Esposito lean closer to try and hear what he's saying, so she shoots them a glare, which makes them scuttle back slightly, still hanging around however. Kate shakes her head, pinching the bridge of her nose and taking a breath before turning to speak to Castle.

"How did you even get their numbers?"

"I did some research. On which precinct you work at. After that it was easy to call," he tells her, as though it should be obvious.

"You _researched_ me?" She hisses, taking another deep breath when he nods eagerly. "Castle, can I talk to you in private, please?"

Kate doesn't leave him much room to argue, instead practically shoves him into the conference room.

"Aw, don't be mean to your _boyfriend,_ Beckett. After all, that's how we knew you were - Ow!"

Ryan pouts, rubbing his upper arm where she'd pinched him. Esposito is roaring with laughter behind him, and she glares at them one last time before following Castle into the conference room, making sure to close all the blinds so that they have total privacy. Castle seems to think this means he's allowed to touch her even more now, because his arms rope around her from behind when the last shutter falls shut, his lips against her neck as he breathes her in. And no, her heart doesn't leap to her throat, but she does whirl out of his grasp.

"What the _Hell_ were you thinking?" She demands, setting her hands on her hips. "I never said it was okay for you to come here, to talk to my colleagues, interrupt me at work!"

His face falls instantly. "I was just worried about you."

"I know, Castle, but you can't just barge in here, and hug me and - "

"Woah, okay, Kate. I didn't barge in anywhere. I rushed here because I heard you were okay after being locked in a room with a _tiger_. Forgive me for being worried."

She scrubs a hand across her face, fingers running over the weary lines and she feels exhaustion climbing the rungs of her spine. Okay. Maybe she's a little tired, a little on edge, and is being a little dramatic. He was just worried, and that's okay - that's… good, she thinks.

"I'm sorry, Castle. I shouldn't…" She shakes her head. "I'm just - my job is dangerous, and things like this happen, and I'm not really used to… I'm not really used to people other than my team being worried about me."

Something about him softens then, and he tentatively moves forward, taking her hand and she lets him run his thumb over her knuckles, forging warmth in his path.

"Well, you'd better get used to it," he tells her, quirking a smile, "because I plan on worrying about you for a long time."

She can't smother her smile, looking up at him shyly. "You do?"

"Yeah, Kate. I do."

This time, because the blinds are closed and she's so tired and she just wants to be held for just a moment to deal with the fact that almost became tiger kibble today, she falls into him when he tugs her into his body. His arms wrap around her loosely this time but she winds hers tightly around his chest and buries her face in his neck. One of his hands rises and he threads his fingers through her hair, making her hum.

"Ryan's getting married next week," she whispers against his skin, "I could do with a plus one."

He pulls away slightly to study her. "Really?"

She shrugs lightly. "You already introduced yourself to them. Why not make it our third date?"

"I would be honoured, Kate," he tells her, so sincerely it makes her grin.

She moves away from his neck, tilts her head so that her lips press against his gently, shyly. His hands settle on the small of her back, perfectly cautious as the room goes silent and her hands flex against the muscles of his shoulders.

And when she moves away, her throat is not- it is absolutely not - clogged with emotion because of this man.

"I'll see you then," he murmurs, tucking her hair behind her ear.

"I'll see you, Castle," she says softly.

* * *

Nerves cluster in her stomach on their way to the wedding.

He's the perfect gentleman, of course. Pressing a kiss to her cheek and telling her that she looks beautiful when he picks her up, making her smile shyly as she tangles her hands with his to walk from her building to the town car he's hired. It makes her heart falter slightly - this man is rich - but it seems almost nothing to him, to be treating her like this, only holds her door open for her happily (and maybe, _maybe_ his eyes linger on the exposed curve of her ass in this grey dress).

It's not just her and Castle anymore, though, unlike their other dates. On their other dates she can laugh and joke and get to know him in all the ways she wants to and hold his hand or kiss him or whatever without the fear that her colleagues, her friends, will be watching. It's their own small bubble and now it's being permeated.

"You okay?" He asks as the car passes through the city, swirling a thumb over the back of her palm.

Shifting slightly, she rests her cheek against his shoulder for a moment. "Yeah… Yeah, I'm okay."

She hooks her arm through his when they walk into the church, which seems to surprise him, but he only smothers a smile as she peers at him from the corner of her eye.

"Ryan," she greet him, smiling, as they approach Ryan and Esposito standing together.

"Hey, Beckett," he says, reaching forward to accept her hug and kiss on the cheek while Esposito shakes Castle's hand. "Thanks for coming."

She grins, shaking her head. "Wouldn't miss it for the world."

Castle intervenes then, smoothly sliding a hand around her back that settles on her hip and she lets him, sinking into his side slightly. He holds a hand out for Ryan, who shakes it happily.

"Congratulations, Detective," he says, voice a smooth timber that makes her bite her lip to prevent a smile.

"Thank you. You don't have to call me detective," Ryan replies, grinning.

As he speaks, Jenny appears on the stairs behind him, and Kate feels Castle grinning beside her as she does herself. The dress is beautiful, as is the bride, and God, she is just so glad that Jenny is here and alive and that her phone call lead Kate to the man warming the ancient frost that's curled around her creaking bones.

"Oh, Jenny," she says.

"You look beautiful," Castle tells her.

"Thank you, Rick," she replies, blushing a little as she fiddles with the bouquet in her hands.

The exchange makes Kate look between them curiously, wondering how well they got to know each other in that bank robbery. Had they leaned on each other for support? Had they befriended each other in that moment of fear? Had… Had Castle asked Jenny about her?

"You're marrying a hero, Ryan," Castle tells him, to which Ryan laughs and nods his head.

Esposito and Ryan leave then, and she watches as Castle stares after Ryan wistfully. Of course, she knows, he's done this before. Two previous marriages are what he has to show from his share of churches and - wow, she's never really thought about it; the baggage he has, how it must be hard for him to meet women of substance who will stick around for him and his daughter rather than use him for his fame and his money. Divorce isn't as careless as it seems, she knows that, has seen the ramifications of it in homicide too often for her to always believe in a happy ending. But she'd never thought about the pain, the loneliness, it must've caused for Castle - trying to dedicate his life to someone who only rejected him.

Guiltily, she finds herself roping her arms around him before they walk into the church.

"You okay?" He asks again, hands on the small of her back.

"You're a great man," is all she replies with, avoids looking at the happiness that shines in his eyes and accepts his arm as they walk into the ceremony.

* * *

The ceremony is beautiful, and emotional, and she's sure that she sees tears in Castle's eyes when everyone stands up to clap and celebrate once Ryan and Jenny are officially husband and wife. Hours later though and the evening is littered with stars and she thinks that maybe she might be a_ little_ tipsy, because she's dancing slowly with Castle in full view of her colleagues and friends, their hips pressed together and his arms around her waist with hers on his shoulders.

"I think I like this version of you," he says, leaning down so that his lips brush against the shell of her ear when he speaks, "drunk Kate. She's very relaxed."

"You're not too sober yourself," she returns, curling a hand at the nape of his neck to brush his hair softly.

He laughs, pressing a kiss beneath her ear.

"That's true."

Kate hums happily, resting her head on his chest, her heels making them the perfect height for this. Between the other swaying couples on the floor she spies Lanie dancing with Esposito, who is watching her openly, mouthing he's cute at Kate. She smiles, and closes her eyes, content for this moment.

* * *

"Congratulations," she says for the tenth time that night, voice a little slurry from the alcohol now as she says goodbye to Jenny and Ryan, hugging the former. "You look so beautiful."

"Thank you, Kate," Jenny replies, catching Kate's hand and grinning. "You and Rick are so cute together."

Her heart fumbles. "You think so?"

"Of course!"

Bashfully, Kate ducks her head, laughing a little. After one last hug with Ryan she finds Castle again, waiting in the doorway of the reception for her. His arm winds around her waist automatically now, and his face turns up, looking at the inky swirl of dark blue and purple and black of the sky, the moonlight washing in silver over his expression. It's not the first time she's found herself breathless by how beautiful he is.

"The car should be here soon," he says, and then looks down at her in concern when he notices her shivering. "Are you cold?"

"Only a little," she admits.

Kate shakes her head profusely when he moves to take off his jacket, instead leans into him and lets him rope her into a hug, feeling the warmth transcend through her blood and her bones. Oh, this man. It feels too raw and right and real already and maybe that should scare her, maybe it does, but his body and the alcohol is making her chest warm and her limbs loose and she's happy.

She lets herself be happy.

"I had a really good time tonight, Kate. Thank you for inviting me," he says softly, kissing the top of her head.

"Thank you for coming," she responds automatically.

After a moment of silence, he whispers, "I want to write about you."

Maybe it's the alcohol, but she doesn't seize up with shock like she thought she would've. Instead she shifts slightly, her body still pressed against his but now her nose brushes his nose, close and intimate.

"Write about me?"

He shrugs. "I… have this idea of a character. Because of you. And I don't just mean personal writing; I'd like to make it into something more, something I can publish. If that's okay with you."

Oh._ Oh._

Her favourite writer wants to write a book about her.

And he's looking at her like that again.

"I inspire you?" She barely whispers.

Castle pauses, eyes roaming over her face with such reverence. She wonders what he finds there.

"All the time, Kate."

Without hesitance, she leans forward, pressing her lips to his. They come alive beneath her touch almost instantly and she's spurred on by the idea that anyone could walk out and see them like this, see her so happy. So she adds more tongue and draws low groans out of him that make her hips jerk against his, his hands moving down and palming her ass now and she doesn't mind one bit.

He tears his lips away from hers and she finds his neck, paints the canvas with her passion as he gasps.

"Kate, car's here - "

"Come back to my place," she requests, voice low and rich.

He groans when she sucks his earlobe into her mouth, nibbling on it softly.

"You're drunk, Kate, I don't - "

"Not that drunk," she tells him, laughing.

He still seems to hesitate, so she presses herself against him wholly, adding a little more bite to her kiss this time as her fingers trip down the buttons of his shirt and tug at the waistband of his pants.

"I want you, Richard Castle," she murmurs, scraping her teeth against his chin.

He doesn't hesitate for a second longer.

* * *

At first it's fast and rough and everywhere. Her heels end up scattered somewhere in her hallway along with her purse and keys, as he presses her up against the door and makes her gasp when his fingers travel up her thigh.

Somehow she ends up shoving him down onto the bed, pulling his shoes and socks off and playing with his belt, dropping to her knees in front of him. But he's too impatient, yanks her up onto his lap so, while he devastates her with his lips across her neck and the exposed hint of her collarbone, she scrabbles with the buttons of his shirt until he's topless.

"Castle," she gasps, and it's still fast and rough and everywhere as his fingers trail up her legs and she rocks in his lap and warmth curls loud and sharp in her stomach.

But then he pulls her dress over her head and she watches the way his smile falls and his eyes focus on the scar between her breasts.

For a moment, she'd almost forgotten.

"Kate," he whispers between ragged breaths, fingers moving to rest against the scar and she holds back her bated breath.

Nobody else but her has seen it before.

This is the first time she's willingly ever let anyone else touch her scars like this.

His hand sweeps her side, inspecting the surgery scars there, touching her gently as he does. She knows that he's waiting for her to say something, can see in the tense of his jaw and the pain in his eyes that he doesn't want to ask. But if she speaks now, if she opens her mouth, she thinks she might fall apart.

"What happened?" He asks eventually, and he stares in her eyes as he does. Seeing her as more than her scars.

Closing her eyes and curling her hands around his shoulders, she takes a long, deep breath, focusing on keeping the anxiety attack lurking at the back of her mind away. She can do this. She trusts Castle.

Opening her eyes, she admits, "I was shot."

His reaction is immediate, his hands bruising against her skin as he grips her with such force as his mouth falls open.

"May of last year. At my Captain's funeral. The - the sniper was never caught."

"Oh, God," he says in a rush of breath, fingers reaching up to trace around the bullet wound. "But - you're okay now? Physically, you're okay?"

She nods slowly. Physically, yes, she is okay. But the mental ramifications? She doesn't think they'll ever leave her. And that makes this so unfair, because this man has wormed his way into her heart over the past four months and she wants nothing more than to give herself completely to him, but it's impossible. Because she can't even find the pieces that make her complete; she's scattered and lonely and impossibly broken and this man deserves so much more.

Instead of admitting to all of this, however, she simply says, "Yeah. Three months of recovery and - and I was pretty much back to normal. They, um… they tug a little sometimes, but it's bearable."

They burn. It aches. Devastates her.

She doesn't sleep.

She doesn't tell him this.

"You're so extraordinary," he whispers, leaning forward to drop a kiss to her throat, "you - you survived a bullet to the heart, Kate. God, I'm so glad you're here."

His lips move and she holds her breath as they descend from her throat and down her chest, pressing slow, wet kisses to her skin. She's waiting, wondering, and then finally his lips kiss her scar and it _doesn't hurt,_ so her back arches up against his mouth, his hands reaching behind to fumble with the hook of her bra.

But she finally takes a breath and the tears splinter bitter and spiteful in her eyes, a low sob escaping her and he stops instantly, cupping her cheeks and forcing her to look at him.

"Kate? Did I do something wrong?" He asks quickly, thumbs wiping away her tears.

"No, no it's not you," she insists, taking a ragged breath. "I just - nobody's…"

His mouth drops again. "You haven't… with anyone, since?"

"I - I was with this guy, Josh, when it happened. He was a cardiac surgeon, helped fix me but… we weren't right. And since then there's… there's been no-one. Only you."

"Oh, Kate," he murmurs, leaning forward to dust a kiss against her hiccuping lips. "We don't have to do this."

"I…"

"It's okay, Kate. You know that, don't you?" He asks, staring deep into her eyes. "It's okay if you need more time. I'll wait, I promise. You take all the time you need."

At that, she feels herself break even more, moving forward to wrap her arms around him and bury her face in his neck. He wraps his arms around her waist and his bare skin on hers still makes dredges of arousal swirl in her stomach, but it's overcast by the grief and sadness that thunders inside of her every night. She wishes she could be more. For herself. For him. So that they could make this work.

"Would you stay the night, Castle?" She whispers, breathing deeply to stop the tears. "Not - for that, but… Just stay?"

He nods against her.

"I'll stay, Kate."

For the most part, they are silent after. He shucks his pants until he's only in his boxers, slipping under the covers with a bashful look on his face and she curls up against his warmth in her underwear, their bare legs tangling. She reaches over him and twines her fingers with the hand not wrapped around her, pressing her cheek against his chest and listening to the reassuring thud of his heart. It's peaceful, and for once she thinks maybe she'll escape the nightmares.

"I want you to meet my daughter," he confesses quietly.

She rests her chin on his chest, frowning. "Castle, you said you only introduce your daughter to women you think it's going well with. And - after what I just told you - surely you know that… well, I'm not exactly a great person to have around a kid."

But he only smiles.

"I think you're more than you realise you are, Kate."

God, his words devastate her. Nodding, she closes her eyes and settles against him again, pressing a kiss to his chest. They say nothing more, and she's grateful - so exhausted. Darkness blankets her vision and bathes her in sleep.

She only has one nightmare and he's there to lull her back to sleep when the shadows dance across her room.

* * *

**TBC**


	7. Chapter 7

**may flowers**

_I am **so **sorry about how long this took. University takes up more of my time than I thought it would. Most of this has been written while I'm sick (what nice way to spend Christmas Eve) so I apologise for any mistakes. Thank you for being patient with me, and happy holidays._

* * *

**Chapter Seven**

He becomes an almost integral part to her life after that.

Every week, she regales him with stories from the precinct, case after case. And - he's different, he's new. He's interested. He claims it all as a part of research, of course, when he calls her mid-case to ask her what her strategies are, what her next move will be. And, as much as she pretends to begrudge him for it, she can't help but fall for him.

They don't discuss when she'll meet his daughter, but the invitation remains open. It's a warm, hearty feeling that has her smiling into her pillow at night before the nightmares encroach her mind. She's - excited, she thinks. And it should bother her. It does bother her, sometimes, when he's not around to assuage her questions. After all, what does she know about children? The only thing she knows is darkness. What if she messes things up with Alexis, and by default, ruins things with him too?

He's the best thing to have happened to her in years.

She doesn't want to lose him.

* * *

Kate is lounging around on the couch when the banging on her door starts. Sighing, and glancing at the clock, she drops the Derrick Storm novel she was reading on the floor beside her and lifts herself up and over to the door.

It's him, on the other side; a smile raises briefly at the sight of him. But then she notices the anger in his eyes, the way his hair looks as though he's been running his hands through it. Her smile drops, and she steps back a little.

"Castle?"

"Can I come in?" He asks, but she gets the feeling it's more of a request than a question.

"Of course."

Stepping aside, Kate allows him in to her apartment. He acts differently. Normally, he would be inspecting the place. He loves doing that. Studying the tiny knick-knacks she has in her apartment, the way she blends her style together through her furniture and her decoration. It's part of his learning process about her, about the character he's going to base on her, along with his own curious, childlike nature - normally, too, he would wiggle his eyebrows at the fact that she was reading Derrick Storm. Would make a joke about her being his biggest fan; a joke about reading sex scenes in the bath.

This time, he's not five paces into her apartment before he turns to her.

"What's wrong?" She asks softly, closing the door behind her. Please, let it be something she can fix.

She misses the way he normally looks at her: like she's everything.

"Really? What's _wrong_?" He repeats, mocking her and she feels anger flare inside her chest. Okay, she does not deserve this.

"If you have something to say, say it."

"Oh, you're damn right I have something to say," he spits, scowling at her.

The anger that had flared inside her chest rages now, bubbling through her but she fights it. She will not overreact. She will not take his bait and act like the bad guy here. Jeez, all she's been doing tonight is try to rest and take her mind off of the case.

"Stop being childish and spit it out, Castle."

The writer huffs, scrubbing a hand over his face. "You're investigating the mayor, Kate."

Huh. So he reads the news about her cases? Well, she doesn't actually see the connection - why he'd be so angry over a case that she can't control. But at least he's actually speaking about it now.

"I am, yes," she replies, stepping cautiously towards him. "Why has that upset you so much?"

His eyes widen.

"Why?" He repeats incredulously. "He's my friend, Kate. You're going to ruin his career!"

His friend?

"Woah - look, Castle, I'm not trying to ruin his career. I'm just going where the evidence leads me. You can't tell me not to do my job."

"I'm not telling you not to do your job, I'm just telling you to leave him out of it."

At his words, she raises her eyebrows, shock coursing through her. How is she supposed to react to that? He wouldn't understand - he's never been a detective, never worked on a case that leads him down winding, political roads. Real police work, it's not like his books, not all the time. She doesn't get to decide on the ending because it's not hers to create, to flesh out; she merely doesn't give up until she's lead to the ending. That's how it works. None of this is her doing. She doesn't even want to investigate the mayor. But it's her job.

"You can't tell me what to do, Castle, no more than I can tell the rest of my team investigating this case to leave the mayor out of it," she argues. "Don't you see? We're not investigating him for fun."

"But the minute - the second you arrest him - he will never stand a chance in politics again," Castle claims. "He's a good guy, Kate. He didn't do it. Leave him alone."

"Leave him alone?"

Castle nods, stuffing his hands in his pockets and raising his chin a little, almost daring her to argue with him. And oh, she's gonna argue alright; there's no way she's letting him get away with this.

"So, what, Castle? I just give up on the case? Because he is the _number one_ suspect, and I know he's your friend - but you're clouded by bias. Out there is a family, a family of the victim who need _closure._ And the victim… she deserves justice. Isn't that what all of your books are about? Justice for the dead?"

He shakes his head. "Don't use my books like that."

"What am I _supposed_ to do, Castle?" She cries, exasperated. "I'm just doing my job! Or do you not trust me?"

Thunder flickers behind his eyes, fast and dark. The last time she'd seen him like this, she had fought her corner valiantly when she had no true argument to justify herself with. But this time? This time things are simply out of her control, and he's aiming his anger over the situation at her unnecessarily.

"You don't trust me," she surmises, quiet and soft.

And it hurts, she thinks. Somewhere in the pit of her stomach, like a dropping stone that leaves consequences in the water.

"Kate - "

"Please go, Castle," she instructs quietly, looking down at the ground.

"It's not - "

"Leave," she grits out through clenched teeth.

He stays, standing still, completely mute for moments. But she keeps her eyes trained on the ground, refuses to look up at him and forgive him when it feels like her insides are shredding each other apart. So finally - finally - he moves, hesitating beside her and reading out to kiss the side of her head. She turns away and he sighs.

"Call me when the case is over," he requests softly, and she nods.

A few seconds later, she hears the snick of the door behind her, and she knows that he's gone. Once again she is left alone in her apartment and when she lifts her eyes she can't believe that just seconds ago he was stood before her accusing her of being untrustworthy; she pinches herself just to make sure she hadn't fallen asleep on the couch earlier and was simply experiencing a nightmare.

No such luck.

Taking a deep breath, she wipes away the few silent tears that had dared to escape. Then she moves away, rifling through her cupboards for the new set of sleeping pills she had bought. She hadn't been using them - Castle had been staying around frequently, the reassuring warmth of his body always there when she startled awake. And even if he hadn't been, if he had been sleeping soundly in his apartment while she stayed in hers; he was always just a phone call away, ready to assure her that the shadows in her nightmares weren't real.

She doesn't think she'll have that support for a while.

Swallowing the pills dry, Kate undresses as she heads towards the bed. She feels wrong; hot and sticky, suffocated. Her insides are battling one another and she is just so drained. She shouldn't have relied on him. She knows better than to rely on people.

Still, she rests a hand over the side of the bed that he has become his, pulling his pillow towards her and hoping that just the smell of him will be enough.

* * *

It takes her days to call him.

The case ends and she respects that Castle doesn't call her, that he gives her space. She needs it. It's not so easy for her to get over what had happened, not after things had been going so well between them. She had trusted him with the darker parts of her, had let him see her scars, and now it's almost as if she didn't really know him at all. Never had she thought he would be as irrational as he had been.

But her world is cold and empty without him. She misses the way he would text her jokes and ridiculous case theories throughout the day just to make her smile while she was at work. The way he would always pick up if she called and needed someone to talk to. The way he was gentle and understanding and touched her carefully; not as though she was fragile, because he would never underestimate her, but as though he understood that she was soft and flawed and was looking for somewhere to settle safely.

She's fallen hard for him - she knows. Just months ago he was a stranger on the cover of a book jacket, a sentimental part of her heart reserved for him because of the way his books had carried her through her mother's death when all she had wanted to do was lay down and never move again.

That's what makes this so hard. He means so much to her already. And all she wants to do is mean as much to him - but if he doesn't trust her -

Shaking her head for the dozenth time that evening, Kate finally presses call.

"Kate," he answers, breathing a sigh of relief. "You called."

Her thumb strokes softly over the image of him on her phone. "Yeah."

"Look, I - I have so much to say. But can I come round? It would just be better to do this face to face."

_Do this face to face_. The phrase tumbles inside her, making her feel all wrong - it's ominous and vague and makes her breath catch.

"Sure," she replies, clearing her throat.

"I'll be there as soon as I can."

He ends the call before she has a chance to reply and she's left staring down at her phone, biting her lips. He wouldn't - would he leave her? Break up with her? Were they even together for him to break up with her? She's not quite sure what it is they've been doing, what dance it is they're following; the boys and Lanie tease her about him being her boyfriend, but is that what Castle is to her?

She doesn't know. She just hopes he doesn't take away the chance for him to be.

The knock on her door comes fifteen minutes after he'd hung up the phone and she almost feels sick, dragging herself towards it. _Do this face to face._ Do _what?_ What did that mean?

"Hey," he says breathlessly, as soon as she opens the door.

"Hey, Castle."

This time he doesn't ask to come in, she simply stands aside and lets him in immediately. This - it's what she missed, his energetic presence in her life. It had barely been four days and his absence had hit her hard.

Like the last time, he doesn't venture too far into her apartment. It makes her heart sink slightly but she disguises it with a smile, closing the door behind her. He doesn't plan on staying.

"Kate, I'm so sorry," he murmurs, reaching out to take her hand. His skin is warm and soft and she sighs. "I shouldn't have said what I did."

"It's okay," she replies, smoothing a thumb over the back of his hand. "I could've tried being more understanding."

He shakes his head. "No, you were right. I was blinded by personal bias. I do trust you, Kate. I know you're good at your job, that you had no choice. I just didn't realise it at the time."

Tears form rapidly in her eyes at the words _I do trust you._ She blinks quickly, hoping to ebb them away but he notices as soon as they arrive. One of his hands lifts up to gently curve around her cheek and she leans into him, calming her breathing. He's here. He's apologising. He trusts her. She repeats the words in her head until they make sense, until the jumbled sense of fear dissipates from the pit of her stomach and she can breathe a little easier.

"You must know that I trust you, Kate," he says quietly, frowning a little when she hesitates to respond.

Finally, she laughs slightly, wiping away her tears with the back of her hand.

"My job - it's gotten in the way of relationships before," she tells him as he nods in understanding. "And so I - I thought you were gonna break up with me."

His jaw drops. "What?"

She shrugs lightly, clenching his hand.

Castle wraps a hand around the nape of her neck, tugging her towards him almost harshly. She has no room to complain, though, when his lips crash against his. Fisting one of her hands in his shirt, she can't restrain the whimper that she lets out at the back of her throat, pushing up on her toes to drag her body against his. It makes him groan and hold her tighter, teeth tugging at her bottom lip before he pulls away.

"I am not going to break up with you, Kate," he whispers, lacing her jaw with gentle kisses. "I'd be mad to, you're way out of my league."

She huffs, rolling her eyes but it doesn't quell the serious look in his eyes that makes her heart pound. That look. It's the look she'd missed.

"So is that what we're doing?" He asks, hands resting on the small of her back. "We're in a relationship?"

She flushes slightly. _A relationship with Richard Castle._

"If that's… what you want too," she replies, watching the emotions that play across his face.

He visibly brightens, grinning. "Of course that's what I want."

He's still grinning when he kisses her again. This time it's light and soft - not hesitant, but teasing, making her lose her breath and her head spins as she tries to deepen the kiss. He avoids her attempts, moves away from her mouth to dust soft kisses across her cheeks, even teasingly dropping one to the tip of her nose and making her wrinkle it. He laughs.

"I missed you," she admits quietly.

Castle goes silent, almost speechless for the first time since she met him in that bank so long ago. His eyes are wide, bright blue and making him look young. She presses her lips together and then slowly her pulls her close, winding his arms all the way around her as she drapes hers around his shoulders. And then he buries his face in her shoulder, breathing her in deeply.

"I missed you too," he replies.

* * *

**TBC**


	8. Chapter 8

**may flowers**

_I am a super slow updater asshole. I know. Hopefully this makes up for the wait, if you're still with me._

* * *

**Chapter Eight  
**

The boys wiggle their eyebrows and rib her mercilessly the first time she uses her lunch break to meet up with Castle. Usually, she'll simply order some Thai, eat in the conference room with them; or grab a tuna sandwich from a couple blocks away while doing her paperwork - Espo will sneak off to Lanie thinking they don't know. Ryan will have lunch with his lovely wife.

Before now, Kate's never really seen the point in wasting a lunch break for social visits - not that she really had anyone to visit, unless the unscheduled emergency appointments with her therapist count. If she works through her lunch break, that means she can get her paperwork done quicker, and go home earlier.

But, of course, Castle changes everything.

Soon, it's a regular occurrence. At least three times a week he takes her to a burger place named Remy's for lunch, a place she's surprised she hadn't really been too all that often before (their shakes are delicious). It becomes such a regular part of her routine that the boys' teasing eventually dissolves, and Captain Gates stops raising her eyebrows from the office every time she leaves.

February weather chills her bones as she walks the few blocks to Remy's that day. She curses under her breath, winding through the crowds as she attempts to speed up. She's ten minutes late.

Of course, when she pushes through the door his face lights up like it always does. Completely forgiving.

"Hey babe," she says, kissing him as he rises to greet her. He quirks his eyebrow at the moniker but doesn't comment. "Sorry, left a little later than I should've."

"That's fine," he says, sliding back into the booth and instead of sitting across from him she moves to sit beside him, tucking herself into his side. "I took the liberty of ordering for you."

She hums as his arm curls around her, tugging her into his warmth. "Thanks."

Her hair rustles against the fabric of his shirt - blue, the kind that makes his eyes shine and her stomach warm. She's left her hair straight, knows it makes her cheekbones look a little more sharper and her eyes fierce; just the look she needs for this case they're working on. It seems to affect him, though, one of his hands moving up to brush a thumb along the ridge of the bone. She turns into him, brushes her nose against the underside of his jaw.

"Cold?"

She nods. "Forgot my gloves."

His hand moves away from the sharpness of her face, cups both of her hands in his large one. The warmth of his palm makes the tips of her fingers sing, and then he raises them to his lips, peppering kisses across the back of her palms. It makes her giggle, squirming against him and she doesn't miss the delight that tattoos itself in his eyes.

"You're awfully affectionate today," he comments, dropping a kiss to her forehead. "Not that I'm complaining."

She's almost ready, she thinks. Almost ready to be with him - completely. To show him her scars and let him love them - because she _could_ love him. Might already be halfway there.

Their burgers arrive but it's the strawberry shake she reaches for first. Makes sure she catches his eyes before she closes her lips around the straw and sucks, hollowing her cheeks a little more than necessary. His eyes darken.

"So," she sets the milkshake back down, twining her right hand with his left one despite the fact it makes eating awkward, "how's Alexis doing?"

He groans. "You can't do things like that and then ask me about my daughter. It's so - confusing."

Kate smirks, doesn't need to do more than that.

He untangles his hand from hers, sweeps her hair back from her face so he can study her profile. His hand wraps around the back of her neck and she turns to face him, expecting a kiss but all she gets is the nudge of his forehead against hers, noses brushing. It's - nice, actually. Intimate.

"This Friday."

"What about it?" She asks, fingers curling around his waist.

"I want to introduce you to my mother. And my daughter. As my girlfriend, this Friday," he tells her softly, watching her eyes for any signs of hesitation. She hopes he doesn't find any lurking there. "We can have dinner at my place."

She doesn't know what he expects from her. But she does shift forward slightly to brush her lips against his, humming at the relief she feels travel through him as his body relaxes against hers.

"I'd like that," she murmurs.

* * *

It's unfair.

It's unfair because she knows - she one hundred percent knows - that he would love to hear all about the case with the CIA. As much as she resents working with this agent who seems to keep all of the information at arm's length, Castle would have so many theories; wacky ones, crazy ones - ones that would inspire those books of his, the books that saved her. And now he doesn't understand, she can sense it in the long period of time it takes him to text her back. Doesn't understand why she can't talk to him about her case.

_You always talk to me about ongoing cases,_ his recent text reads. _You're not supposed to, but you do._

This time it's different. I'm sorry, I wish I could explain, she replies.

It takes him five minutes to reply. She practically hovers around her phone while sitting in the CIA's conference room, leaping out of her seat when she sees the lock screen light up with a message from him.

_Have I done something wrong?_

Kate sighs, rubbing at her scar through the fabric of her sweater. There aren't any agents around to confiscate her phone, and she's not going to tell him anything - just needs to hear his voice, needs more than electronic words to reassure him that everything between them is still perfectly fine.

She almost thinks he's not going to answer.

"Hello."

It's curt, and she swallows against the harsh lump in her throat.

"Castle," she says. "Listen, I really wish I could explain - "

"I just don't get it, Kate. One moment we're perfectly fine, and the next minute you're freezing me out again. What do I keep doing to make you treat me like this?"

"_No,_" she groans, rubbing a hand against her temples. "It's not you - I - I can't tell anyone. Not my Captain, or the boys, or - "

"What's that supposed to mean, Kate? Are you in trouble?"

"No, no, I'm fine," she almost laughs. She's in some secure facility of the CIA's; there's no place safer. "I promise. Maybe one day, I'll be able to tell you, but for now, Castle I -"

"You know, this is sounding a lot like you are in trouble. In the movies, they're always told to say they're fine -"

"Castle," she huffs. "I promise. I'm fine. It's just… this case… what I know - it's super classified. Emphasis on super."

He goes quiet for a moment and she almost thinks that he's hung up, if it weren't for the contemplative breathing of his she can hear drifting down the line. She bites her lip, glancing out of the clear doors to see an Agent headed her way, a scowl set on his face. Yep. She's been caught alright.

"I've got to go," she tells him. "But I'll call you as soon as I can, okay?"

"Are we still on for Friday?"

"Of course," she replies gently, before she hears the sound of the door opening. "I've got to go, babe."

"Call me as soon as you can."

"I promise."

She clicks off of the phone as the agent stops at the edge of the desk, a disapproving crease lining the skin of his forehead. Ah. Yeah. Pissing CIA agents off probably isn't her best move, especially if she wants to make any progress on her own case. Still, the amount of suits and serious looks around here unsettle her.

"I wasn't spilling your secrets, don't worry," she says, setting the phone back down on the table. "I just have a very paranoid boyfriend.

The agent raises his eyebrows.

But then Sophia Turner walks back into the room, and the subject is forgotten.

* * *

She's going to die alone.

It's the first thought she has when her car plummets into the Hudson. The water is green and grey and everywhere, filling so quickly before she can even really process what's happened. She's going to die alone, and she hasn't called Castle, won't get to call him even though now all she wants is his voice. The one he uses when she wakes sweaty and trembling from nightmares. Reassuring, and deep, and right in the shell of her ear.

She survived a bullet to the chest - knows all too much about the fear of not getting to say goodbye.

She's going to die alone.

Kate tugs at the seatbelt, gritting her teeth when she feels it give way slightly. _C'mon_, she thinks. _C'mon, just this once, let things go my way._

They're supposed to be having dinner. In two days. She's supposed to be meeting his _family._ A little girl with red hair and an older woman with eyes like the night tide. She can't miss a family dinner. Can't die like this. Not like her mom. Won't leave them waiting for her.

The water is up to her chin when she's finally free of the seatbelt. She takes a second to take a deep breath and sheds her coat, makes herself lighter, before diving under the water, hands reaching out for the gun caught beneath her seat.

It doesn't budge the first time and she resurfaces, barely inches of air left in the vehicle. She takes one last lungful of air and hopes it's enough to get back to him. Back to Castle.

The gun dislodges and she shoots at the windows, swimming up and out, her body light enough to begin carrying itself towards the surface as she kicks hastily. But resurfacing such a depth so quickly has her vision turning black, spots dancing before her eyes and she can no longer tell which way it is she needs to go.

She can't miss a family dinner.

Not like her mom.

* * *

Lanie brings her clothes from her locker at the precinct and she has two minutes to attempt to recover before Sophia's dragging her away to yell at her. Something about the woman has her on edge, grates against her and she's still thinking of the angry spark in her eyes when she almost collapses through her apartment door hours later.

"Kate."

She glances up from the floor, finds him emerging from the front room, the key she'd given him last week in his hands. His eyes study her trembling frame, the air-dried hair, the oversized hoodie. They narrow.

"What happened?"

She swallows nervously. "My car ended up in the Hudson."

He's moving forwards, swallowing her into his arms with a strength she doesn't have right now. He's safe, and warm, and everything, really. It doesn't take much for her to collapse into him, arms tucked between them awkwardly and nose buried against his clavicle. There are so many things she wants to say. Her throat burns.

"I can't lose you," he whispers into her hair. "I can't - Kate…"

"I'm right here," she murmurs, and they sway together in the darkness of her kitchen. For the first time she really does believe she's real. He makes her warm.

She wants his skin on her skin. Right now. But her bones ache, deeply, so she settles for his hand around hers as he leads her into the bedroom.

They both startle when they reach the doorway.

"Agent Turner?"

"Sophia?"

Kate turns to him, glaring. "You know her?"

Castle glances between the woman sitting on the edge of Kate's bed - perfectly poised - and her. "We - I - How do you know her?"

Before she has a chance to reply, his eyes light up. "Oh, my God. You're working with the CIA. That is so awesome!" He almost looks like he wants to pick her up and spin her around. "My girlfriend is working for the CIA. I totally knew you were badass."

Sophia rises from the bed then, moves forwards, making them fall silent.

"I still need your help, detective," she says, but he eyes move to Castle, makes Kate's skin prickle uncomfortably. "And maybe it's time for yours again, Rick."

* * *

"A _year!"_

Castle winces as she paces in the conference room. Outside, the CIA are running matches for the little girl in the photograph, the one she and Castle had found at the apartment. It's kind of exhilarating, working with him - his theories on hand, in person, instead of by text, or the static of a phone call. And he has her back, she feels more protected than she's ever felt with any partner she's worked with.

But - how is she supposed to ignore the fact that he so obviously slept with the Agent in the next room, and based a character on her?

"It's not that bad. It's not like you," he insists.

"Oh, isn't it?" She hisses, hands settling on her hips. "Because from where I'm sitting, Castle, it's exactly the same. How many other women have you done this with? How many women have you tossed aside once you've bedded them?"

"Hey," he says hotly, rising from the chair he'd been sitting in. "That's not fair. It's not like that."

Kate feels her skin flush from the way he's looking at her - all anger and passion. She likes that she can evoke this from him.

Knows that means he cares.

She huffs, turning away and dropping her face into her hands to collect her breath. It skitters away from her, nervous, while her heart pounds fiercely in her chest. She'd been stupid, of course, to think she could have possibly been the only woman he'd ever been inspired by. She knows that. Shouldn't have ever thought that in the first place. It's just - it'd been nice. Thinking she's special.

"It's just…" she lets her hands fall, turns back to him and his eyes are soft now. "You mean so much to me, Castle. And I - I know you're not how they make you out to be on page six. I know that. But I just wanted… I just thought…"

She can't get the words out, now that she knows how ridiculous he's being.

Castle's feet appear in her vision as she glances down at the floor. He cups her face in his palms, lifts her up to meet his eyes. Oh. Yes. That look. That look of his that he only gives her. It's still there - that mix of awe and wonder.

"Please don't think - not for a second - that because I've been inspired by other women before, it makes you any less special. God, you're - you're extraordinary, Kate. I've never felt such a pull like this before," his mouth drops closer to hers, just inches away and she feels her breath hitch. "You're… you're everything to me. Already."

She blinks a couple times, stunned by his words. She has none to amount to his, so she curls her fingers at his waist, and leans in to kiss him tenderly.

She hopes Sophia's watching.

* * *

It's different.

He's different.

Weariness settles across his features now, despite the fact that they've saved a little girl's life. It's not enough, she knows. Knows the way betrayal stings low in the spine and sets a low buzzing through the bones. She can see it in the way he slumps as he exits the car, the way he doesn't respond to her touch against the small of his back in the elevator.

Sophia's dead and gone, died right in front of them before she had the chance to kill them both, and Castle -

Castle's different.

It's the first time she's ever been to his place, hadn't questioned him earlier when he'd insisted on going back there. Probably wanted familiarity, or his little girl, she doesn't know. Wishes she did. She should know - how to comfort him when he's like this, after all this time he's spent helping her.

"Richard?"

She recognises the woman instantly, even though it's been so long since that dreaded day at the bank. Castle's mother - Martha Rodgers. The woman recognises her too, it seems, a gleam in her eye before Castle crosses the room and takes the stairs, leaving her standing awkwardly by the doorway.

"Katherine. It's nice to finally see you again," Martha greets her with a kiss to the cheek, almost startling her. "Now, what's wrong with my son?"

"Oh," Kate flushes, glancing to the stairs which had lead him away from her. "I don't know that I - "

"Darling, he's my son."

Motherly love. It's something she'd almost forgotten.

"There was… a woman. From his past," she tells the older woman, watching as she nods. "She… She was killed. Right in front of us."

"Oh, my."

Kate hears the sound of his footsteps again, sees him taking the stairs back down slowly. Something about him is lighter now, and - was it his daughter? Had he needed to go up there to see his daughter?

It tugs uncomfortably in her stomach.

"I'll give you two your space," Martha whispers, not giving Kate the chance to reply before she moves away, kissing her son on the cheek and then taking the stairs.

There's silence. Castle continues to stand there, staring aimlessly at the wall in front of him. It's different. When you're close enough to watch the lights go out. She knows. It's even more different when it's a bullet lodged in your chest.

"Kate."

His voice is gruff, needy. She knows what he's asking for even if he'll never really demand anything from her.

She wants it, too.

Kate moves forward, twines a hand with his gently, smoothing her thumb against the paper thin skin on the back of his palms. He sighs, leaning down to sip from her mouth and she lets him, curling another hand around the shell of his ear to keep him close for a moment.

"Your bedroom," she murmurs, and there's a storm in his eyes before she kisses him again.

He leads her there and it's everything and nothing like she had expected. Warm and masculine and home. She peels the coat from his shoulders without a word, and the silence is comfortable in a way it never has been with anyone before. She helps him shed his shirt, hopes he's shedding some of that weariness too, goes for his belt before he stops her, grabbing her wrists. He lets them go almost as soon as she gets the message, letting them fall back to her sides as he unbuttons her coat, lets it fall with a rustle somewhere on the floor. She steps from her shoes next, smiling to herself at the height difference and watches as he smiles slightly, too.

Castle moves to sit on the edge of the bed, pulls her to stand between his legs. He unbuttons her shirt slowly, still gives her time to back out but there's nowhere else she'd rather be.

The shirt falls to the floor. His lips find the scar between her breasts, hands curling around the ones lining her waist.

"I'm not her," she says gently as he pauses, breathing her in. "I'm not going anywhere."

He stares up at her, eyes all solemn and for a moment she gets a glimpse into what he must've been like as a little boy.

"I'm here to stay, Castle. Always."

It should be too much for her fragile heart to handle.

It isn't.

He says nothing then, mutely unclasps her bra and she lets it fall. The desire in his eyes sparks, light blue eyes turning shades darker as he begins shuffling back on the bed and she follows.

By the time she's made him lose his belt and his pants, she's on her back, his mouth tracing softly down the scar along her waist.

Kate closes her eyes and, for the first time, feels that tightness in her chest from the shooting disappear.

"Castle."

His mouth reaches her navel. Looks back up at her.

"Kate."

There are no more words after that.

* * *

**TBC**


	9. Chapter 9

**may flowers**

_I'm so glad you're all still interested in this fic. This chapter is a little unlike the others, but I hope you like it nonetheless.  
_

* * *

**Chapter Nine  
**

Hours later, when they're done, and her bones have melted into liquid and her skin is buzzing and she is exhausted in all of the right ways - she sags against him, draping her thigh over his as she curls her body into his side, her head cushioned on his bicep. Previous flames of desire that had licked their way up her spine are replaced with the cooling air of night, save for the few beads of sweat that cling to her skin. She hears him sigh contently and presses her smile into his skin.

"I don't even have the words for how amazing that was," he says into the silence, and she feels him shift, drops a gentle kiss to her forehead.

"Technically, doesn't saying it was amazing count as having words for it?" She teases, drifting her fingers up and down his side.

"No need to get so logical."

Kate doesn't have the energy to laugh, instead hums and sinks deeper into his embrace. Dredges of sleep begin to curl around her, normally so distant and teasing - it's the easiest that she feels she's falling to sleep in months.

"It wasn't about her, you know."

His voice pulls her from the edges of sleep, her eyes blinking open again to find the blue of his staring intently at her.

"I know I was… I was upset, about Sophia. But it wasn't about her. I would never have done this with you if it had ever - even for a second - been about her."

Kate smiles, curls a palm around his ears and tugs him towards her, kissing him gently.

"I know."

That settles whatever had been ricocheting through him. His breaths deepen, relaxing as she begins to fall asleep again him, content in this moment, here, with him, having no concept of anything else other than this.

* * *

Even as a child, she had been a light sleeper.

The sound of footsteps that don't belong and are slightly unfamiliar have her waking groggily. A quick peek to the side reveals that it's almost four in the morning - she's managed three hours of peaceful sleep, almost a miracle.

A shadow falls across the room from the light still on in Castle's office. The thought of an intruder has Kate sitting up sharply, but it isn't an intruder she finds standing in the doorway.

"Alexis?"

Kate clings to the bedsheets that preserve her modesty as the young girl stands, conflicted, in the doorway. She wrings her pale little hands as her eyes go wide and her gaze flickers between her dad and the detective. There's no light on the little girl's face, but Kate thinks that she spots blotchy cheeks as a result of crying. Oh, no. Is she getting in the way of Alexis seeking her father's comfort?

"You're the detective from the bank," the little girl says, watching as Kate nods. "You're not s'posed to be here 'till Friday. Dad said we were going to have dinner."

"Oh, um," Kate lets go of the sheets with one hand to tuck her hair behind her ear. "That - that plan changed a little. But I'm still going to be here on Friday. For dinner."

The redhead nods, and Kate waits for her to say something - little kids have always made her a little nervous. Toddlers, babies, they're fine; a little dependent, if slightly stubborn. Kids have an edge of awareness that could make them think like adults if it weren't for the naivety of their minds - they say what they're thinking in ways adults don't, ask so many questions that sometimes she's not sure she has all the answers to. From what she's heard from Castle, Alexis is inquisitive - bright, and not only in the way that most parents believe their kids to be. She can see it in the solemn, thoughtful look on Alexis's face now as she assesses the situation.

Her face bunches up suddenly, looking like she wants to cry, and she says nothing as she spins on the spot and bolts from the room.

Crap.

Kate leaps from the bed and tugs on her pants, finding her bra and shirt somewhere in the darkness. She glances at Castle but the guy looks dead to the world - and this is _her_ mess, it seems like her presence kind of caused this.

Her shirt is only half buttoned and the wooden flooring of the loft against her bare feet makes her shiver as she rushes into the living room to find the little girl disappearing up the stairs.

Kate takes the stairs two at a time, making sure to keep her footsteps light.

"Alexis?" She calls calmly, stopping at the top of the stairs to find the little girl curled up in a ball in the middle of the upstairs hallway, crying into her knees.

The girl doesn't move, so she moves to crouch beside her, curling a hand around her shoulder.

"Hey, what's wrong?" She asks softly, making sure to meet the girl's bloodshot eyes when she looks up.

Her gaze flicks towards the open doorway in front of her and Kate sees the pile of bedsheets in the middle of the room, along with a pair of pyjamas on top of that. Why would Alexis have stripped her bed -

Oh.

"Alexis," she sits beside the girl, watching as an angry blush paints itself across her cheeks. "Did you wet the bed?"

Alexis sniffs, wiping her hands across her blotchy cheeks. "I'm not a baby."

"I know. I know that," Kate tells her. "But - you did?"

"I didn't mean to. I didn't. I - I changed my clothes and tried to - but I don't know how to wash them…"

The little girl looks as though she's about to burst out crying again so Kate pulls her close, hugging her side. This feels a little out of her territory, but there's no way she can just abandon this little girl now.

"That's okay. I can help you, Alexis. We don't have to tell your dad if that's what you're scared of," she says, and she feels the little girl nod earnestly against her side. "Okay, we can do this ourselves. Do you know where your washer is?"

Alexis points to a room at the end of the hall and Kate nods, humming. "Okay, let's take the sheets there, shall we?"

Kate stands, offering a hand to the little girl. She takes it, standing to her feet and rushes over to the sheets before Kate can even blink. Okay. So that's how this is going to go.

"I don't want you to touch them," Alexis explains, grabbing a part of one of the sheets and pulling them over to the doorway. Kate doesn't argue. Alexis is embarrassed, she knows.

"That's okay. Why don't you lead the way to the washer, hm?"

Alexis leads the way down the hall, making sure to tiptoe quietly outside of her gram's room. The action is almost amusing - but Kate smothers her smile. Now is not the time. Instead she keeps her facial expression neutral as she girl tugs the sheets into the room at the end of the hall. She gestures to a light switch and the room switches from dark to light, and she watches as Kate closes the door behind her.

Kate crosses the room, opening the washer and scanning the shelf on top for the detergent. Alexis quietly deposits the dirty sheets and pajamas into the washer and watches as Kate twirls the dials the correct way and switches the machine on.

"They shouldn't be too long," Kate tells her. "Why don't we see if we can find you some spare sheets to put on after we wash your mattress?"

Alexis nods, quiet, and takes Kate's hand. The action shouldn't make her heart thump - but it feels like acceptance.

They find the spare sheets in an airing cupboard and lay them on the floor at the foot of Alexis's bed. Kate finds a mixing bowl in the kitchen and fills it with warm water, some washing up liquid, vinegar and even manages to find some baking soda to pour into the mix. She doesn't say anything as she sets the bowl on the bed and begins to scrub at the wet patch, doesn't want to risk upsetting Alexis even more.

"Do you have kids?" Alexis asks, and there's almost something like hope in her eyes.

Kate shakes her head. "No - my friend, Lanie, has quite a few nieces and nephews about your age. They stayed at my place once and the youngest, she was only four, wet the bed. I had to call my dad to find out how to clean the mattress," she tells the girl, laughing slightly to attempt to diffuse the tension between them. The corners of the girl's mouth lift but something about her has deflated. Huh. "Oh. You want siblings?"

Alexis looks down at her feet. "My daddy's fun."

"I understand. I was an only child too, like you and your dad," she tells her. The little girl looks up with wide eyes. "Yeah. My parents were always fun, but I always hoped for a little sister that I could play with."

Alexis smiles, swaying slightly on the spot as a happy mood begins to come back to her. "I want a little brother."

Interesting.

Kate moves the bowl to the floor once she's done, and, with a little difficulty, manages to raise the mattress and flip it over so that the wet side is on the bottom. She motions for Alexis to hand her the bedsheets and makes the bed for her, waiting out Alexis's silence.

"Thank you, Detective Beckett."

"Oh. You don't have to call me that. Call me Kate."

The little girl grins. "Thank you Kate."

They collect Alexis's sheets from the washer and Alexis lets her handle them this time, watching as she puts them in the dryer. Kate glances at the clock in the room and notes that it's nearing five now. The little girl definitely shouldn't still be awake.

She turns to Alexis. "Why don't you go get some sleep? I'll wait until these are done and fold them for you."

Alexis's happy mood vanishes instantly.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

She crouches in front of Alexis, cautiously reaching out to place a hand on her arm. The little girl's lower lip wobbles and Kate's heart clenches. _No_ \- she _just_ got her to smile. She can't make Castle's daughter cry again.

"I have nightmares."

Oh. Nightmares.

"Of the bank?"

Alexis nods, hair rustling against the fabric of her pyjamas. Oh - the poor girl. She knows, she can tell, that Castle still holds memories of that situation in his heart; the day he and his daughter were almost killed and there was next to nothing he could do about it. And she'd wondered - about Alexis - about how the girl had been handling that memory too, how such a young mind can possibly learn to cope with that experience.

"Come with me."

Alexis follows her back into her room and Kate motions for her to sit in bed. The girl leans against her pillows and watches every single one of Kate's movements as she places herself beside the girl, unbuttoning her shirt.

"I have nightmares too," Kate tells her, and she points to her scar. "I was… shot, once. And it was very, very scary."

Alexis's hand reaches out and presses against the scar. "You almost died?"

"I almost died. And I have nightmares - a lot of them - where I don't survive at all," she says, fighting the emotion that clogs her throat. "And as much as I hate this scar, when I wake up, I just have to look at it in the mirror or feel it against my fingers to know that I survived. I'm still alive."

Alexis's eyes glitter with tears, so Kate shucks the shirt completely, motioning to the surgical scars.

"They had to cut me open to keep me alive. I couldn't really do much for myself after the surgery. I was tired a lot of the time, and had to stay with my father, until the day came that I was well enough to go back to work. It felt like that day was never going to come, but it did."

Alexis sighs, one that shudders through her body and leans against Kate. Her head is pillowed against the swell of her breast and her hand remains curled around the scar above her heart. Kate thinks she read somewhere - about babies bonding with their mothers from skin-to-skin contact. Had Alexis's mother ever given her this? Castle's told her, before, mentioned it in passing, that Alexis's mother is flightily - not purposely neglectful, just absent.

Kate's heart constricts at that.

She runs a hand through Alexis's hair, doesn't give herself time to wonder exactly what it is she's doing here - because then she'll wonder if she really wants long-term with Richard Castle, if she's ready to bring her darkness into their home (and, she thinks, she already knows the answer; an answer that scares her but makes her heart twist with anticipation).

"My point is," she continues, feeling the little girl relax against her. "Everyone has nightmares, just like you. I don't think about my shooting so much anymore. My nightmares aren't so frequent. And it's better to share that pain with someone, you know? I've told your dad about mine. And he's so helpful, Alexis. He would never be angry with you, or make you feel ashamed or embarrassed, if he found out you were having nightmares about these moments."

Alexis's breathing fans against her skin. "Do you love my dad?"

Oh. Well. That's -

It's best to give children honesty, right?

"Yes," she answers, resolute. "I love him very much."

Alexis's eyes close, breathing deepening. "Good."

The little girl falls into sleep then, still against her, and Kate runs her hands through her long hair. She tells herself that she'll get up and collect the sheets from the dryer soon, that she doesn't want to jostle Alexis too soon, that she'll just wait a little while first. But then suddenly everything around her is dark and peaceful, and she's sleeping too.

* * *

Footsteps wake her again. Familiar ones.

Her eyes crack open, peering foggily at the figure standing at the end of the bed.

"Kate?"

Oh -

"Castle," she whispers, glancing at the clock. Eight in the morning. Damn it, she must've fallen asleep.

He's looking at her strangely, as though he can't quite understand the picture in front of him. She looks down at Alexis, whose head is pillowed just below her breasts now, at the top of her stomach. Her face is completely peaceful, no evidence of her distress from last night lingering. And - Oh. Right. Her shirt is on the floor.

Slowly, Kate shifts from beneath Alexis, making sure to gently place the girl's head on a real pillow this time. She holds her breath when Alexis mutters, but then she rolls to her other side, snoring lightly. Mission accomplished.

She grabs her shirt from the floor, buttoning it up as she and Castle walk out into the hallway.

"I didn't mean to fall asleep, I was waiting for the dryer to be done but I guess I must've just dozed off and - "

"Why were you up here in the first place?" He asks - and from his tone she can't work out if he's curious or angry.

"Alexis, she… had a nightmare," she tells him, following him down the stairs. Daylight streams in through the loft now and she can see the conflict warring across his face as they come to a stop in the kitchen.

"And you didn't think to wake me?"

Oh - is he upset?

"It wasn't like that. It's just…" she purses her lips. "Alexis seemed a little thrown off to find me in your bed. I just wanted to make sure she didn't run away from her problems just because I was there, you know?"

She steps forward, squeezing Castle's arm and his eyes soften. He loops his arms around her, pulling her close.

"She's okay?"

"I think so. We had a discussion about nightmares and I showed her my scars - that's why I wasn't wearing my shirt."

"You showed her… Kate, I don't think - "

"Don't worry, Castle, I didn't fill your daughter's brain with violent images that will haunt her forever," and she stops him before he can protest. "I know that's what you were thinking. And that's okay, she's your daughter, you want to protect her. But I was just showing her that everyone has their nightmares."

Castle sighs, pitching forwards to capture her lips with his. The kiss makes her heart pound as her hands clasp his biceps tightly, the knowledge of her love for him making this all feel so different and new and better. Admitting it to herself had been a stage she'd skipped, instead telling his daughter but she can't find herself to regret it - she's made so much progress, with this man and in her own mental health. He makes her want to be better.

They break away and he smiles. "Have I told you lately how awesome you are?"

She laughs a little. "You might have mentioned it."

Castle drops a kiss to the side of her head, squeezing her waist with his hands before he moves away to the fridge. She slides onto one of the kitchen stools at the island and watches him, and this all feels perfectly normal - this whole scene; him cooking for her, hair still ruffled from sleep and her shirt creased from the way it had crumpled to the floor when he'd undressed her last night, his mother and daughter sleeping peacefully upstairs. It feels normal, and happy, and it's what she wants. This sense of family. Hadn't realised it's what she's been looking for this whole time.

He stops, assessing her and she must be showing it on her face. "You okay?"

She leans across the counter to kiss him again.

"Never better."

* * *

**TBC**


	10. Chapter 10

**may flowers**

_I'm so sorry for the delay in updates. Coursework/exams at uni. But now they've passed, I can finally focus on this fic again, if you're all still interested.  
_

* * *

**Chapter Ten**

She arrives ten minutes before she's supposed to.

Kate sits in her cruiser, keys still in the ignition, staring up at his building. It's Friday. And Friday means a family dinner. Formally introduced to his mother and his daughter as his girlfriend, and for some reason her stomach keeps flipping over and over again. But why? His mother - she's wonderful, had given them space. And his daughter - his daughter likes her, trusted her with the imagery of her nightmares. She knows, logically, that a lot of that is admiration. She'd saved Castle and Alexis from that bank. That's how Alexis sees her; she's a child's hero. Still, she hopes she can be more. Something real.

Sighing, she switches the car off, climbing out and walking into his building. This is big. Being introduced to his family, formally. She's had her fair share of taking down criminals with no fear in her heart, but this is - this is commitment.

But she likes this man. _Loves_ him. Told his daughter as much, so why should she let this fear stop her?

By the time she's knocking on his door, her heart has ventured to settle in her throat. Commitment. She's part of his family's life.

And it's not fear of commitment anymore, she thinks. He opens the door and greets her with a smile and no, it's not he commitment she fears. It's losing this.

"Hey, come in," he says, banding an arm around her waist once he's closed the door behind her.

"Hey," she replies, a little airily as he steps closer to her, kisses her deeply. Her hands land somewhere on his forearms as he teases her with the fleeting touch of his tongue. Her heart pounds louder in her ears.

They break apart when the patter of small feet grows louder, and he takes her coat to hang beneath the stairs as Alexis rounds the corner.

The little girl's hair is pulled back in a long french braid, running down her back, and for a moment Kate wonders if it's Castle himself who learned how to do that for his little girl. Her face is open and vulnerable because of the hairdo, and when she stops in front of Kate, her dress swishing around her knees, her eyes are wide, hands clasped in front of herself as she looks up at her.

In the corner of her eye, Kate can feel Castle watching them, despite how he pretends to be fully focused on hanging her coat. She resists the urge to roll her eyes at the man, instead crouches in front of his suspiciously quiet daughter.

"Hello, Alexis," she greets her softly, giving her a small smile.

"Hello Kate," Alexis says, eyes falling down to focus on her hands. Shy.

Kate reaches out, rubs a thumb across the skirt of Alexis's dress. A mishmash of red and white flowers cover the fabric, complimenting the young girl's porcelain skin.

"I like your dress."

Alexis looks back up at that, the beginning of a smile growing. "You do?"

"Oh, yes. It's very pretty."

Alexis grins, reaching out to tug on one of Kate's curls. She laughs when it bounces back into the way it had been styled, and Kate feels relief flutter in her heart. The girl is still comfortable around her. That's good.

"I like your hair."

Kate grins. "I like yours, too."

Castle moves over to them and Kate stands. He glances between them, and Kate reaches out to give his hand a squeeze reassuringly. They're good. This is good.

To her surprise, Alexis reaches up and slips her hand into Kate's. Kate quickly releases Castle's hand and looks down at Alexis - the young girl is smiling, tugging on her hand to lead her towards the kitchen.

"Dad made bolognese!"

"He did, huh?"

Alexis nods vigorously, pulling her along and Kate follows easily. Castle parts from them, moving to the island to stir their dinner while Alexis points to a glass of wine waiting for their guest on the table, proudly announcing that she'd helped her Dad pour it.

The click of heels against wood signals the arrival of Castle's mother, Martha. She takes the stairs slowly, and Kate can feel the older woman watching her as she interacts with Alexis - has to fight to keep her face from growing red and redoubles her focus on what Alexis is saying. Something about her recent school project. A presentation on a book. At least, she thinks that's what she's saying.

"Katherine, dear. Nice to see you again."

"Hi, Martha," Kate greets her, placing her glass of wine back on the table before accepting the older woman's hug. It shouldn't surprise her as much as it does.

"Well don't you look darling tonight, Alexis," Martha says when they break apart, running a hand across her granddaughter's head.

"Kate said my dress is pretty!"

"Oh?"

Alexis twirls in a circle, giggling when the skirt flares out around her and Kate can't help smiling. This is the kind of carefree attitude Alexis should have. Admittedly, she doesn't know the girl well - has met her only three times and has a handful of anecdotes about her lurking in her mind somewhere from the few times Castle's been unguarded in his love for his daughter. But the last time she'd met her - when she had been terrified and haunted and a little too vulnerable - she had worried that the girl had lost childhood laughter.

"Dinner is ready, ladies," Castle calls, and Martha ushers them to their seats.

Castle sits beside her, his daughter and mother opposite them and she watches Castle's unrestrained smile when his daughter sips up a piece of spaghetti after referencing Lady and the Tramp. It shouldn't surprise her, really. How much he loves his daughter. From the snippets of them together that she's witnessed, she's felt the palpable love he has for his daughter flowing from him. Still - it's nice. More than nice, really.

"So, Katherine, I hear that my son worked with you on a case recently."

Kate glances from Martha to Castle, narrowing her eyes.

"Castle, you know that - "

"I'm not supposed to tell, blah blah blah, I know," Castle replies, nudging her with his foot. "But when I first followed Sophia around, I accidentally told mother about it while I was drunk."

Kate glances at Alexis carefully, but the girl remains fully invested in the meal before her, orange sauce smeared around her lips.

"I did warn you that you couldn't drink me under the table, kiddo."

"I was young! And so naive."

Kate almost chokes on her sip of her wine. "I'm sorry - are you telling me you outdrank him?"

Castle dives in before Martha can reply. "Oh, Kate, trust me - my mother can outdrink anyone."

Kate looks over at the older woman, who simply raises her glass and laughs softly. There's something - accepting, she thinks. Something warm, that bubbles in her chest as she smiles back at the older woman.

Alexis raises her glass of apple juice. "But can you outdrink _me_, gram?"

* * *

Later, when she is stuffed full of pasta and good wine, she sits with his mother and daughter on the couch. Alexis sits to her right, happily chatting through the movie they're watching while playing with her badge. Martha nurses a glass of wine on her other side, happily refilling Kate's glass even when she protests that she's had enough.

"Oh, let loose a little, darling," Martha tells her, laughing. She toasts her glass with Kate's. "Richard tells me you overwork yourself. Very committed to your job."

Kate pauses, glass stuck halfway to her lips. "He does?"

Martha hums, and Alexis tugs on her t-shirt.

"Daddy says you're the best police detective in the whole _world_," Alexis tells her, little fingers tracing the numbers on the badge. "He says he wanted to write a book about you as soon as you saved us from the bank."

Kate feels her cheeks flush, eyes darting down to the glass in her hands.

"He did, huh?"

At that, Castle joins them, finished with the dishes that he'd denied help with. His mother shifts to make room for him on the couch next to Kate, and he plops down beside her, looping an arm around her shoulders unashamedly.

"Are they telling you horror stories about me?"

He pretends to glare at Alexis, who giggles and pokes her tongue out at him while Martha simply chuckles.

"Oh, if she's made it this far with you, Richard, I'm sure she doesn't scare easily," Martha says, grinning at her granddaughter when she laughs at the statement. "Should I avoid the naked police horse story though, kiddo?"

Castle quickly puts a finger to his lips when Kate's head snaps round to stare at him, mouth hung open. The wine makes her skin warm, fingertips buzzing, so when he reaches out and takes her hand while giving her puppy eyes, she simply shakes her head, not asking. He astounds her, really, this man - caring and gentle yet with stories that rival even her own rebellious years.

"You know, I worked a case related to your books once," she tells him - probably because of the wine.

Castle gasps. "You did?"

Kate glances at Alexis, wondering how much information to divulge in front of the little girl, but Castle continues to stare at her, probing for information.

"Uh, yeah. Couple years back, I think. The Alison Tisdale case - "

"As in daughter of Jonathan Tisdale?"

"Yes. She was killed in a copycat version of some of your books."

Castle's mouth drops open. "You're kidding."

"Nope, almost every detail was the same as one of your books. The incorrect details were how we caught the real murderer - her brother. He did it for the money. This was before their father had died."

Castle's eyes are twinkling, a grin encompassing his face as he glances between his mother and his daughter. One of Alexis's hands falls onto Kate's leg, the other one still occupied with her badge, as she grins back at her dad.

"So you _are_ a real fan of my work, huh?" Castle teases, curling his hand around the curve of her shoulder. "Noticed all the missing details."

She glares at him. "Well, someone had to, since you weren't around to ask our questions."

Alexis drops Kate's badge, pressing both of her hands to her cheeks and letting her mouth fall open with surprise as Castle gasps. His eyes go wide, staring at his daughter as their reactions mirror each other. Kate glances over to Martha with a slight frown, finding the older woman is just rolling her eyes at the members of her family.

"You asked my dad questions?" Alexis asks.

"Oh, no," she replies quickly. "We were going to - but he was attending a book party out of state. We called his agent for his whereabouts during the other few murders and found he had solid alibis."

"I was a suspect in your investigation? That is _so cool_," Castle breathes, and it's not the first time she finds herself grinning at his childlike nature. "But - wait - you were going to ask me questions? We could've met _years ago_?"

Kate shrugs. "We've met now."

Though, that does get her mind racing - what would've happened, if they had met then? His daughter would've been a toddler at most, and from what trivia she has learned through his website during her giddy fan days, he was busy divorcing his second wife at the time. It couldn't have amounted to much, could it? She had been too buttoned up - is still messed up now, has too many scars that are damaging for her mental health. But she'd been… guarded. Unable to take risks. Needed that time to learn how to open herself up and be comfortable in herself before she could've had anything like she has now with Castle.

"But Kate," he whines, "this means you could've_ interrogated_ me."

His eyebrows wiggle as he says it and she doesn't miss the innuendo, finds her cheeks flushing as she looks back down at her drink and carefully avoids the eyes of his mother. From what she's witnessed of the older woman, she thinks she'd laugh.

Alexis yawns beside her, tiny and hidden behind one of her small palms, but Castle's retracting his arm from around Kate and bouncing up to his feet immediately. Kate watches as he switches to dad mode, instantly reaching to scoop Alexis up from the couch even as she protests that she's old enough to walk by herself, giggling when he hangs her upside down until she gives in. Kate's heart pounds loudly in her chest, watching the delight of the young girl in the glitter of the eyes she inherited from her father.

When Castle finally holds her the right way up, Alexis twists in his arms, holding Kate's badge back out to her.

"Are you going to be here tomorrow morning?" Alexis asks as Kate accepts the badge.

"Oh," she glances at Castle, who raises his eyebrows, waiting for her to answer. "I'm not on call until midday tomorrow, so... yes, probably."

Alexis grins, leaning further down in her father's arms to press a kiss to Kate's cheek.

"Goodnight, Kate!"

Kate smiles, can feel Martha and Castle's eyes on her. "Goodnight, Alexis."

Castle carries her off up the stairs, tickling her and she sits smiling as the twinkling of the young girl's laughter fades away.

Martha says nothing when they're left in silence, and she's not sure whether that's a good thing or not. The woman is chatty, eccentric - but thoughtful, somehow. Her eyes sparkle to a certain degree when she looks between Castle and Kate, she's noticed. The woman notices things.

"I've never dated anyone who has a kid before," Kate admits, unsure why.

Martha studies her neutrally. "My granddaughter doesn't seem to phase you."

"Oh, no. Alexis is a lovely child. Wonderful, actually."

"I think you've solved your own worries there, darling."

Kate smiles to herself, tracing a finger around the rim of her wine glass. It makes a light humming noise, distilling the silence that hangs between them.

"I suppose I have."

Castle's footsteps down the stairs are surprisingly light, and when he reaches the back of the couch and places a hand on the back of her neck she jumps. Martha laughs, while Castle raises his eyebrows and she finds herself growing red again. That seems to be have an effect that this family has on her without meaning to. But it feels - nice. It feels nice to be surrounded by warmth and laughter. She hasn't had this in a long time.

"Well, I guess I'll be heading off to bed, give you two kiddos some alone time," Martha says, wiggling her eyebrows before holding up the almost empty bottle of wine. "You two won't mind if I take this?"

"You're asking instead of just taking?"

Martha laughs as she stands, digging her elbow into her son's ribs. "I've got to look polite in front of our guest."

Castle smiles, leaning in to kiss his mother on the cheek. "Goodnight, mother."

"Night, kiddo. Goodnight, Katherine."

"Night, Martha," Kate says softly, watching Martha ascend the stairs before she stands from the couch, accepting Castle's outstretched hand and following him into his bedroom.

It should probably scare her. That she has things here, enough to make an impromptu stay comfortable, instead of having to bring an overnight bag. In fact, she thinks she might have a drawer in his things without having realised she'd ever began to occupy it. She rifles through the drawer, grabs a pair of leggings and a tatty t-shirt of his that she'd adopted a week or two ago, wondering why he doesn't have a drawer at hers. Is he waiting for her to give him one? It's unusual for him to be so patient. But - oh, understanding. Yes. Definitely.

Castle emerges from the bathroom just as she's climbing into the bed, and she watches the way the golden light from the bathroom spills across the plane of his back muscles as he bends to grab a t-shirt from one of his drawers. The muscles contract beneath his skin, the skin itself glowing and then growing taut as he tugs the clothing over his head, turning to her with a sleepy smile.

He seems pretty content when he slides in next to her, hooking an arm around her waist and tugging her close. It must've gone well. She must've made a good impression on his family for him to be so relaxed. She knows that his family is his main priority.

Kate hums, curling a hand around his jaw, thumb brushing the light dusting of stubble there.

"Castle?"

"Hmm?"

"You love your daughter."

He cracks his eye open, confused. "Yes?"

"No. I mean you - you _really_ love your daughter."

Something must be showing in the tone of her voice, because he opens both of his eyes, propping himself up on his elbow to look down and study her. His free hand travels south, curls around her hipbone and the warmth of his skin through the thin layer of her clothing assuages the cold in her chest.

"Kate?"

She sighs, lifting up to kiss him softly.

"Don't you wonder why I never mention my parents?"

When she settles back beside him, his eyes are downcast, focusing on his thumb tracing patterns at her hip.

"I do, but - I figured you'd tell me about them when you wanted. It seemed… a sensitive subject."

"It is, yes," she admits, playing with the collar of his t-shirt absentmindedly. "But I… I want to talk about it with you."

Castle settles beside her and she curls into him, legs tangled as his lips brush her forehead.

"I'm all ears," he murmurs.

"My father is an alcoholic."

"Kate - "

"My father is an alcoholic because my mom was murdered when I was nineteen. It's why I became a cop. I was pre-law at Stanford at the time. It was an unsolved case, and it - it still is. But my scars, Castle, my shooting at my Captain's funeral, it's linked to that. My mother's case is still unsolved, and I'm in therapy, and I've lost a lot of people due to this case. But - but most importantly I lost my family, you know? My mom was murdered and my dad just… disappeared. And there was a time… he was sober for so long. But then I was shot and... Everything just went to Hell, Castle."

She finishes, a little surprised she's not crying, and wraps an arm around him, pressing their bodies together. His warmth, his touch, it calms her; seals the cracked pieces of her that threaten to break her entirely.

"I'm sorry, Kate," he breathes, gentling kissing against her forehead.

"It's okay. I mean, it's not - my mom's still dead, and my dad is still suffering. But it's… something I'm used to. And I have you."

His arms tighten around her.

"Yes," he says. "You do."

Kate sniffs, tears threatening her eyes as her throat burns but she holds them back, fists her hand in the back of his t-shirt. What will she do if she misses this up? How will she cope losing him?

"It's just that seeing you with Alexis, so close and such a beautiful relationship, Castle, it just… it made me sad, I guess. A happy kind of sad. Bittersweet. I'm glad you have that relationship with your daughter, Rick."

He's silent for a moment, and she sighs, closing her eyes. She's content, wrapped up here with him, even as grief scratches her ribs.

But then he shifts, distancing from her for a moment even as her arms tighten around him instinctively. He pulls back enough for his mouth to find hers. Soft, gentle, and then heated, making her sob or moan into his mouth, isn't sure when he rolls her onto her back and his hands find the skin beneath her t-shirt. She lets her legs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer as her hands create a vice around his neck, keeping him trapped against her.

"Kate," he pants between kisses. "Kate, I love you."

Her heart stutters, and she sips from his mouth, lets one of her hands curl gently around his ear.

"You do?"

Castle hovers on his elbows above her, hair adorably mussed and eyes hazy.

"I do. I love you, and you don't have to say anything, Kate. I just wanted you to know."

She sighs, pulling him back down to her, and just before she kisses him again, she whispers_ I love you too._

* * *

**TBC**


	11. Chapter 11

**may flowers**

_Thank you all for reading! This one's a little longer than I'd anticipated, but hopefully quantity hasn't reduced quality.  
_

* * *

**Chapter Eleven**

"Little Red Riding Hood?"

Kate rolls her eyes, cheek pressed against his chest as she nudges his leg with her foot. His laughter rolls through her ears as his arm drifts around her waist, tugging her against him, deliciously naked.

"She was _not_ a fairytale character, Castle."

"You just told me she was dressed - "

"In a costume. She's not actually Little Red Riding Hood."

"But you found her in the woods. It could've been a wolf…"

"So the signed confession I have back at the precinct is a lie, huh?"

Castle huffs and she laughs, lifting up on her elbow to stare down at him. It's nice - to have him, here, at her apartment. Usually it's so… empty. Quiet. Deafening. She's not quite sure of the exact way to describe it, really. Intimate? Oh. Yes. With him it is.

She leans down, ghosting her lips against his, teasing. He growls, a low sound from the back of his throat, making her shiver as she drifts closer. His hands settle on the small of her back when she plants her hands on either side of his head, moving to straddle him. To her delight, he gets that glazed-over, aroused look he always does with her like this; utterly enthralled. She's never met anyone who's as mesmerised by her as he is. Someone who takes note of every little thing she does, in ways that should be annoying, or creepy, but are utterly endearing. He cares.

"I love you," she tells him, because the words are free now, because she can.

"Well, I am ruggedly - "

He yelps when she twists his ear, and then she's giggling into the darkness when he flips them and blows raspberries against her neck.

* * *

Kate juggles her keys, duffel bag and her cell in her hands as she attempts to unlock her cruiser and answer the call at the same time. February frost is tickling the back of her neck and all she wants to do is get to Castle's apartment as soon as possible. Martha has taken Alexis away for the weekend to the Hamptons, claiming they were in need of some girl bonding time. Kate suspects that the older woman had ulterior motives, had given she and Castle some time alone. Not that she begrudges his daughter, but it is nice - it being just them.

Now it's Friday and she has the weekend off and she's leaving for Castle's. She knows he's waiting for her with more food than the two of them can possibly eat and a bottle of wine - the thought already has warmth curling in her stomach while she opens the car door.

"Hello?" She answers, tucking the phone between her ear and shoulder as she throws the duffle onto the passenger seat and settles in the driver one.

"Katie?"

Her eyes slam closed as she shuts the car door and leans her head back against the chair. Her dad. He doesn't - sound drunk. No slur to his speech. But still. Her dad. The one who always knows how to switch her mood from high to low with just slurred word. And she's supposed to be having a nice evening alone with her boyfriend. Will her life ever be simple?

"Hey, dad," she says softly. No need to go on the attack just yet.

"I - uh, I just wanted to check in on you. See how you were doing," he adds, and she feels tears prickling at her eyes.

That had always been her role. For years upon years she dragged him out of bars, out of precincts, out of puddles of his own sick. No matter his mood, happy or sad, he was still drunk - would lash out at her, tell her she was too much like her mother; would cry, tell her how he and her mom had first met, how happy he'd been with their small family of three. And then - to have had bordering on nine years without that. To have had her dad back - a little more reserved, but still her dad. It had been freeing.

And to have lost him again -

"Katie?"

She snaps out of it, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hands.

"I'm doing good, Dad. And - and you? You're okay?"

"I'm doing really good, Katie," he tells her, and just like all of those times before, she tells herself not to fall for it. For the faux optimism in his voice, the idealistic promises. "You know, it's - it's been three months. Three months sober, Katie."

"I'm really proud of you, Dad," she tells him. She is. Really.

"Thanks, Katiebug."

She takes a deep breath and counts to ten. Exhales slowly, like Doctor Burke had taught her. Hand on her stomach to make sure she really is breathing, not just puffing her chest in and out, not just pretending.

"Do you think… We could start meeting again? For lunch? Once a week, like we used to."

Her hand drifts from her stomach, scratching against her mother's ring through the fabric of her t-shirt. She'd worn something bold, a sapphire blue, because Castle had told her he liked that colour on her.

"Dad - "

"It really is different this time, Katie. I don't - I don't dream about your shooting anymore. I don't wake up in a panic thinking you're dead."

She holds back her response. _But I do._

"There's someone I'd like you to meet actually," she replies, choosing to believe him, choosing hope, because if there's anything being with Castle has taught her, it's that optimism isn't always a vulnerability. "We could meet tomorrow? At our diner?"

That nugget of information piques his interest. "A _special_ someone?"

Kate huffs a laugh, rolling her eyes. "Yeah, Dad. We've been together about four months now."

"Four months," he repeats quietly. She hears everything he doesn't say. _And you didn't tell me._

"He has a daughter, Dad."

"He does?"

"A beautiful, charming, seven year old daughter. So Dad, I can't - I can't have false hope with this one, you know? You can't… Dad, he has a _daughter._"

She cuts off her own rambling by pressing her fingers against her lips. They taste dusty, reminiscent of the crime scene they'd found their victim in yesterday, and she realises that she hasn't showered since four in the morning before that. Hmm. Castle does have a big bath. Maybe it's time to put it to use.

"I won't mess this up, Katie," he promises. "It's really different this time. I swear."

In spite of her brewing pessimism, Katie feels a smile growing on her lips. He sounds like her dad. He's acting like him, too. And she's missed him desperately. He's the only family she has left, really. Of course she has aunts and uncles and cousins, and her makeshift family at the precinct with the boys. But it's not the same. She's wanted sitting around the Christmas tree and stockings above the fireplace and laughter over turkey - and the closest she's come to that lately is Castle. Which should scare her off. Should send her running in the opposite direction. But even when she leaves, she always runs back to him.

"I know, Dad," she says softly. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

She can hear the smile in his own voice. "See you tomorrow."

* * *

Even outside the loft, she can smell the meal he's made, something that makes her stomach grumble and her heart whisper _home._

He appears at the door immediately, her hand still falling away from knocking when he ropes an arm around her waist and tugs her to him. She comes willingly, melting for him when their lips meet and she drops her bag by their feet to wrap her arms around him, comb her fingers through his hair. Despite her intentions, her hips nudge into the cradle of his when he groans against her, feeling her blood molten. She laughs against his mouth when his hands slip around their ass, because they really are quite ridiculous - but she never wants this honeymoon period of theirs to end.

"That was quite the welcome," she mumbles as he smatters kisses across the length of her jaw.

"I'd missed that."

"I saw you two days ago," she replies, laughing when he growls and kisses her again, fiercely, until she's weak at the knees for him.

He raises his eyebrows when he pulls away. "You were saying?"

"Point taken."

Grinning, he moves to take her bag, ignoring her protests and indicating she move to the kitchen. She hangs her coat up and moves to the glass of wine he's left out for her, peering into the oven to see what he's cooking. Chicken. So he's planning on spoiling her - with just one sip of the wine she can tell it's her favourite, the kind that makes her bubbling for him, and the meal he's cooking one of her favourites too.

"I was beginning to think you weren't coming," he tells her, appearing from the room and wrapping his arm around her hip, kissing the side of her head just _because,_ and this small moment of domesticity has her heart pounding in ways that aren't fear.

"I said I was."

"I know, but you were supposed to be here fifteen minutes ago."

Her brows lift. "And you can't last for that long on your own?"

She regrets the words as soon as she's said them, because then he's laughing into her hair, lips brushing the shell of her ear when he whispers. "I think I've shown you exactly how long I can last, detective."

Rolling her eyes, she shoves him away lightly. He laughs and watches as she settles on one of the stools at the island opposite where he's standing.

"I was… On the phone to my dad, actually."

"You were?"

He's leaning down to take the chicken out, but pauses to gauge her expression. There's nothing to hide from him, so she just shrugs, tracing her finger against the rim of the wine glass, listening to its low hum. Yes, she was, and yes, she's a little shaken up, and no, she doesn't want to talk about it.

"How does that make you feel?"

She splutters a laugh. "Seriously, Castle? What are you now - my therapist?"

"Sorry," he says sheepishly, leaning across the counter to land a kiss on her forehead. "I mean, where do you guys stand with each other now? You mentioned you don't have much contact now."

"We don't," she admits, pursing her lips. "But he's… He's been sober three months now. Not one of his longest periods, but he sounded so happy. So certain he was going to do it. Last time he sounded like that, he did, and he was sober for nine years."

"It's okay to hope, Kate," he reminds her gently and she nods.

"I actually… I told him about you."

"You did?"

Glancing at him, she sees his eyes widen. Why is that such a shock? She's met his family, has regularly had dinner with them ever since their first dinner together a few weeks ago. And they're serious about each other. At least she is about him. She'd thought he was serious about her too.

"Yes?" It comes out as more of a question than she'd hoped. "I actually - if you don't mind - agreed to us meeting him for lunch tomorrow."

"Of course I'll meet your dad, Kate. No question about it."

Kate grins, reaching across the counter this time to kiss him. It's soft and she pulls back all too quickly when the timer of the oven goes wild, but he's still got the dazed look he gets because of her. Even as he dips to get the chicken out of the oven.

Looking down at her plate, Kate frowns. "Uh, Castle?"

"Yup?"

He pops up with steam surrounding his face. A little ridiculous, but a whole lot adorable.

"Are you aware that there's a key on my plate?"

"Oh, yeah, it's for you."

Kate grabs the key from the plate so that he can serve her her food. Frowning, still confused. It's just a plain key. For her?

"For what?"

"It's a key to the loft."

That hits her hard, breath leaving her instantly.

"Castle - "

"Don't read into it more than it is, Kate," he tells her, a little strained, and when she meets his eyes he's almost pleading. Oh. "It's just a key, the same way you gave me one to your apartment."

"Yes but that's different, Rick. It's just _me_ at my apartment."

"What, I can only use that one for a booty call?"

She laughs while blushing, running a hand through her hair. She's let it fall straight today, capturing the first glimpses of sunlight they've had this year, and she knows he likes it. It's longer than when she wears it curled. There's more to grab. Even now, his eyes follow the path of her hand as it wades through her hair, strands falling neatly around her shoulders and dusting between her shoulder blades.

After, his eyes move back to hers, a little earnest, and she sighs. Slipping from the stool she moves over to under the stairs, rifling through her coat pockets for her keys. She watches the delight smother his face as she walks back over to the kitchen island and makes a show out of slipping the key onto her keyring. It clinks against the one for apartment, and she feels her heart flutter. She has a key.

"Happy now?"

"Very."

She rolls her eyes and moves away to put her keys back. By the time she's returned he's dished out the food, making her hum and his eyes move over her legs when she sits beside him. Oh, yeah, she knows exactly what he's thinking.

"This looks delicious," she practically purrs, and he grins.

"I like your t-shirt," he responds, fingers trailing over her spine through the cotton material.

"You do, huh?" She replies, slipping a hand over his thigh and watching his throat bob. "You should see what I've got on underneath."

* * *

If she'd thought she was the nervous one for this lunch with her dad, she'd been wrong. Ever since she'd reminded him of their lunch that morning, he'd been acting strange, a little too jumpy for her taste. He'd even shied away from her touch, and she'd never known the man to turn down sex with her. Ever. When she'd tried to tug him into the shower with her as they were getting ready, he'd hissed _what if he can tell_, making her laugh even as he tried to slip his hand out of her grip. Once her hands had found a place a little lower, however, his arguments had escaped him and he'd joined her.

Now, as they walk the last few blocks to the diner hand in hand, he's shifty. Apologises to every stranger he accidentally knocks shoulders with on the sidewalk and rushes across roads to make sure cab drivers don't yell at them to hurry up. She observes him, bemused, as he stops just before the diner to check his hair in a shop window.

"You know, Castle, my dad isn't superficial."

He grimaces, guilty.

"I know - I just, I want to make a good impression, you know?"

"You will do."

His whole face lights up as he turns back to her, wrapping large hands around her hips. "I will do?"

"Sure, as long as you don't act like yourself."

He scowls. "I walked right into that one."

She tips her head back as she laughs, and she feels his smile against her chin, moving down to press an open-mouthed kiss to her throat. His hands are shaky around her hips and she sighs at the tail-end of her laugh, curling a hand around the back of his neck to pull his lips to hers. He jolts, a little surprised when she slicks her tongue against the roof of his mouth in broad daylight surrounded by strangers, but when she pulls away she just has a self satisfied smirk on her face.

"Not that I'm complaining - but what was that for?"

"Because you're nervous when you shouldn't be and I don't think my dad will appreciate it if I make out with you in front of him," she responds easily, like it should be obvious.

He swallows. "Right."

She takes his hand again then, tugging even as he still looks a little nervous. The bell chimes above their heads as they walk into the diner, and she spots her dad at their usual table, his hands clasped together and staring at them with a mug of coffee cooling in front of him. He looks up at the sound of the bell and smiles, not as wide as she'd like, his eyes widening when he drinks in the man holding her hand.

Jim stands as they weave through the diner towards him, and she drops Castle's hand to greet him with a hug. It had made her laugh when she'd first grown taller than him and had to stoop to rest her cheek on his shoulder when she was just sixteen. Now she revels in it, and smiles at the smell of coffee, and ink, and woodshavings. No trace of whiskey, his drink of choice, or vodka, his desperate seconds. Just - her dad. Real.

He murmurs her name and she squeezes him a little tighter before letting go. He looks good. He looks healthy, and she turns to Castle smiling to find he's already watching her for her reaction.

"Dad, this is Rick Castle. Rick, this is my dad, Jim," she introduces them, watching as they step forward to shake hands.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, sir."

"The pleasure's all mine. Katie failed to mention that she was seeing her favourite author."

Kate flushes red and elbows Castle in the rib when he murmurs _I knew it._

He follows her into the booth when she slides in, carefully maintaining distance from her even as she rolls her eyes and her father watches their exchange with amusement in the seat opposite them. Some part of her wants to make a joke about not being a nun - but then she takes a second look at Castle, sees his hands curled nervously in his lap and decides to let him off the hook. Instead she slides one of her hands around his until he opens his hand for her and loses the white-knuckled look of nerves.

"You look good, Katie."

"You too, Dad."

He gestures sheepishly at the coffee in front of him. "I would've ordered for you - but I didn't know how Rick took his coffee. Plus I uh, got here a little early."

"It's fine, dad. Really."

As soon as she says it, their waitress appears to take their lunch orders, along with their coffees. Castle copies her order even as she pokes her tongue out at him, and she doesn't miss the delight that glimmers in her dad's eyes at the action. Let him see how happy he is. How the world keeps turning even when it feels like it shouldn't.

"So, Rick… Katie tells me you have a daughter."

Wow. Really? They're going into it this early?

"I sure do," Castle replies, beaming proudly the way he always does when he talks about Alexis. He reaches into his coat to get his wallet, pulling out a photo of his daughter and handing it to Jim. "Her name's Alexis. She's away with her grandmother at the moment, but she'd love to meet you, I'm sure."

"She's beautiful."

"She is," Kate agrees softly and Castle squeezes her hand, using the other to accept the photo back from Jim and put it away.

"And her mother?"

"Dad," Kate chides, shifting uncomfortably.

"It's okay. Her mother - Meredith - she gave me sole custody when we divorced. She's lovely with Alexis, she's just not… She's not the every day parenting type."

Jim nods and lets it pass, much to Kate's delight. The subject of single parents sets her father on edge sometimes. She knows how much of a failure he felt as one, despite how she'd had both parents for the entirety of her childhood.

In fact, she doesn't think she's ever dated anyone with kids before. This is new. To both her and her father. She can understand his misgivings, because she's had her own. Maybe not the same ones - she knows Castle, knows how fiercely he loves his daughter, how he would do anything for her. But sometimes she catches herself at dinner, laughing with his family, wondering what it is they're doing. What is she to them? Is she just the girlfriend? Does he expect her to be a mother to Alexis? Does she want to be?

Their food arrives then, interrupting her panic before Castle can ask her what's wrong. She's grateful for it - communication and honesty may be key to a long-lasting relationship, but she's not quite ready to discuss this yet.

"So what's new with you, Dad?"

"Uh, well - you remember my old friend, Nick? He offered me a job on his legal team and I - I was thinking about taking it."

She feels emotion rush from her toes and up through her body. Her dad would be a lawyer again, just like he used to be - he loved that job. He and her mother would sit around the table after dinner debating different aspects of their cases, enjoying every second of it, and she remembers watching them and hoping to be just like them one day. And sure, she's not a lawyer like she'd hoped, certainly not Chief of Justice, but most evenings she and Castle bounce theories off of each other about her recent cases. And it feels like what she'd wanted all those years ago. It feels right.

"That's great, Dad."

"I'm a little rusty," he admits.

"I'm sure you'll get back into the swing of things quickly."

Her dad looks pleased at her support, and Castle squeezes her hand. She's missed this. Him.

"And you, Katie? Besides this, of course."

"Oh, well - you know, the same old. The boys drive Lanie crazy and Gates glares at us from her office."

Castle laughs beside her, and they both look at him curiously.

"Ah, sorry," he says quickly, setting his knife and fork down. "It's just - the fact that you can call that the same old. It's amazing. Here I am writing a book about you and you're shrugging at your work like it's nothing."

Kate feels her face flood with heat as her dad asks _a book?_

"Oh, did Kate not tell you? I'm writing a new series based on her. I'm about halfway through the first novel now and it's better than anything I've ever written - and I say that modestly. Your daughter is… " Castle looks at her and smiles. "She's quite an inspiration."

Kate dips her head, kissing his shoulder as she waits for her reddened cheeks to pale. She knows her father is watching, but lays her cheek on Castle's shoulder, her free hand tickling patterns on her palm as she tries to cope with the swell of emotion he always lifts in her.

"She certainly is," she hears her father agree.

After their lunch, Castle slips away to the bathroom. Her father helps her with her coat and pulls her in for a long, tight hug, one that she knows he feared to give her in front of Castle. She wants to tell him he knows and he understands and he's not like the others. But she keeps her mouth shut, and lets him have his moment.

When he pulls away, he's smiling. "He makes you happy."

It's not a question. "Yeah, he does."

"He's a good man. I'd - I'd love to meet his daughter. Alexis. Someday."

Kate bites her lip. Her father really does seem like he's doing better, like he's actually committed to being sober again. But can she risk that little girl on hope? Would Castle agree to that too?

"Maybe, dad," she replies, watching his face fall. "It's not a no. Just. Give it time?"

He nods. "I understand, Katie. But you - I'll see you here next week?"

"Yeah, dad. You will."

Castle emerges from the bathroom and joins them then, exchanging a hand shake and pleasantries with Jim before they make their separate ways. The little bell above the door chimes again as they leave and she looks back, waving goodbye to her father as he heads in the opposite direction.

The shaking in Castle's hands has gone now as they walk back to his loft.

"See? That wasn't so bad."

Castle nods, smiling a little. "You were right. Though I don't know how he keeps his cool like that. Alexis isn't having a boyfriend until she's at _least_ thirty."

"I don't think that's your choice, Castle," she points out, and when his expression goes sour she rolls her eyes, tugging him to a stop and raising her hands to cup his cheeks. "But how about we deal with that when we get there, huh?"

He's breathless. "_We_ will?"

"Yes," she replies, leaning in to close the distance between them. "We will."

* * *

**TBC**


	12. Chapter 12

**may flowers**

_This one's the penultimate chapter. And, oddly, for a penultimate chapter, was very fun to write. I hope you like it.  
_

* * *

**Chapter Twelve  
**

Her regular appointments with Burke are becoming lighter. It's a small transition - weeks long, but noticeable. She stops hunching in the chair she sits in during appointments, doesn't avoid his eyes when she speaks. The room is warm and comfortable and she tells Castle as much the day after she realises it's been a week since she's had a panic attack.

His hand travels down her back, the pads of his fingers soft against her naked skin.

"That's great, Kate," he tells her, and the words should sound bored, but the smile on his face is a form of encouragement that makes her chest stutter.

"It's not… wholly because of you," she says, pausing for a moment to find the right words. "But, you're a huge factor, Castle. You - You help me. Ground me."

His arm wraps around her waist to drag her closer. Her thigh slips easily between his as he dips down, sprinkling light kisses across her jaw and her throat.

"You, Kate," he responds easily. "None of this was me. You put the work in, you learned to let me in, you're teaching yourself to be happy. You are your own greatest achievement."

The tears in her eyes threaten to spill, so she rolls them and pushes on his chest until he releases her. He laughs when he notices her embarrassment at the praise, but doesn't apologise or take the words back. Instead his head dips again, lips seeking out the scar between her breasts and she sighs, weaving her hands through his hair. He stays there, breathing her in.

"The last one. My last panic attack," she clarifies, drifting slow patterns through his hair. "Sparked from a nightmare. You'd - You'd gone missing. I woke up and opened all the windows in my apartment. I couldn't breathe. Had to take a really, really cold shower to make my lungs work normally again. And then I couldn't tell if I was trembling from the cold or from the attack."

He props himself up on his chin, digging into the scarred skin. She waits for him to berate her, to tell her she should've included him, but he doesn't. Instead his hand cups her shoulder, warm as always.

"I listened to some of your voicemails. You know, the ones you leave on my phone when I'm working and can't pick up and what you want to say can't be expressed in a text? The kind where I can hear the spots that you smile and when you talk with your hands and you sit on the edge of your seat as one idea leads into another. So, yes, Castle - I am the one that's put in the work. But you're always there… You're…"

The words trail off and she closes her eyes. She isn't a wordsmith. That's always been him.

He shifts, moving so that his palms lay on each side of her head while his face hovers close to hers. Bumps his nose against her own and makes her smile.

"How about we agree to disagree?"

She curls her hand around the back of his neck and pulls him in to kiss him softly.

"I can live with that."

* * *

Alexis swings her feet happily beside Kate as they sit on the creaky bench in central park. It's April, and one of her rare days off of work, and she's glad to be spending it with Castle and his daughter.

"Who do you think they are?" Alexis whispers, tugging on her sleeve and pointing not so discreetly to two young women lined up behind Castle for ice cream.

Kate smiles and lets her eyes trace over the two young women. Castle and Alexis had been playing the same game as they'd gotten here together on the subway - made guesses at stranger's lives; outlandish theories that made her roll her eyes. Alexis had been enraptured at the game, staring up at her dad as he whipped up CIA theories and alien abduction stories, completely enamoured. Now, she's been pointing people out to Kate while they wait for Castle to return with their ice cream.

"Undercover detectives," Kate murmurs back, watching Alexis's eyes widen. "They're a little young, so they're probably new to the job. Explains the over the top college attire."

Alexis tugs on her sleeve again. "Tell me more, Kate."

"We'd better be quiet. We don't want them to know that we're onto them - or let anyone else around us know who they are. Their suspect could be right here in this very park."

"No way," Alexis breathes out in wonder. "Who do you think it is?"

"Well," Kate takes a moment to pause, pursing her lips. "I think it's… you!"

Alexis shrieks happily as Kate begins tickling her sides, squirming away on the bench even as Kate chases after her. The redhead tries to twirl away and hop off of the bench, but Kate catches her under her arms, lifting up to twirl Alexis around before flipping her so that she's holding her upside down, the back of her skull against her knees. She's seen Castle do it a thousand times now, and it produces the same peal of laughter from the young girl.

Castle approaches them with two ninety-nines in his hands, stopping in front of them and grinning.

"Daddy! Make Kate put me down!"

Castle pretends to mull it over. "I don't know, I think maybe I'll just… eat your ice cream instead."

"No!" The young girl giggles.

Ignoring her, Castle makes a show of lifting Alexis's ninety-nine with strawberry sauce to his lips and licking some of the sauce off with an appreciative hum. His daughter wriggles in Kate's arms, arms reaching out to poke Castle's knees in protest. He staggers dramatically, making Alexis groan when he pretends to almost drop the ice creams.

Taking pity on the young girl, Kate turns her back to the right way up and sets her down on her feet on the floor. Her face is flushed, hair static as her chest puffs from all of the excitement, glancing between her father and Kate.

"Would you like some, Kate?"

Castle offers her Alexis's ice cream, holding it just high enough to be out of the girl's reach even as she stands on her tip toes and jumps. Kate holds back a laugh and takes the cone out of his grasp slowly, pretending to consider the option. Alexis whines as Kate takes a bite from the flake, batting her little fists against Kate's abdomen while the two adults laugh.

"Kate! You're a traitor!"

Finally giving in, Kate hands the ice cream to Alexis before turning to Castle.

"Where's mine?" She asks, nodding to the sole ice cream he holds in his hands.

"I thought we could share."

At his wolfish grin, she raises her eyebrows. "Oh, really?"

Kate glances at Alexis, but the young girl is trotting back to the bench they'd abandoned to eat the ice cream with a concentration she's never seen on any other girl her age. After deciding the girl is out of eyesight, she turns back to the man before her and grips his wrist, pulls the ice cream towards her lips. His jaw hangs open as she lets her tongue run a long, slow strip from the bottom to the top of the ice cream, pausing to swirl around the tip and collect more there.

The ice cream is cold and sugary on her tongue, but heat flushes her skin as Castle continues to stare at her. Motionless.

"Maybe this wasn't such a good idea," he says.

Kate smirks.

* * *

Later, after a long day in the park and teasing him mercilessly through dinner, he has her gasping and moaning. Payback, she thinks.

"You know," he says after, still struggling for breath as he flops down beside her. "We are _really_ good at that."

Kate laughs, reaching to pull the comforter over their naked bodies as she wriggles into his side. His skin is slick with sweat against hers but she doesn't care, lets herself breathe him in and be content.

"Alexis keeps wetting the bed," he says suddenly.

Kate frowns, propping herself up on her elbow to look down at him. "Castle?"

He sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face. "I know it's been - it's been so long since the bank robbery. But ever since, she avoids certain TV shows, ones with just the hint of violence - even _Star Wars_. Wets the bed and tries to hide it from me. She's even stopped trying to convince me to let her read my books."

Kate sighs, letting her thumb brush against his lower lip. He leans into her touch, kissing the pad of her thumb lightly.

"She needs some help," she murmurs.

"Yeah. She does," Castle admits, defeated.

Kate shifts to straddle him as he sits up with his back pressed against the headboard. She lets her hands rest on his broad shoulders, squeezing gently. He doesn't say anything, so she leans in, kissing him softly. His hands rest on the small of her back, pull her closer, and when they part she rests her forehead against his neck, her lips at his collarbone.

"I thought - Of course, I knew it was going to be traumatic for her. Hell, there's not a day that goes by where I don't count my lucky stars for Alexis getting out of that alive. But I thought she'd… Kate, she's always so happy. You know her. Especially when_ you_ spend more time with her; the longer you're around, the happier she is because… Well, to her, you're the one that saved us. But Kate, she's not getting any better. I don't know what to do. She never wants to talk about it, and I don't want to force her to."

"It's easier. Talking to an objective stranger about it. It's why therapy can be so helpful."

"But I don't - I want to help her, Kate. I don't want to have to rely on some stranger to do it. I can't fail her - "

"Woah."

Kate pushes back, taking his face between her hands. He's so forlorn, like a lost little boy and it makes her chest ache. She loves this man. So much, and his daughter too, no matter how many questions and doubts she has about their future dynamics. Seeing them both ache unsettles her. Makes her crave for the ability to make things better.

"You are not a failure, Rick Castle. That little girl _loves_ you."

He sighs, and she pushes her mouth against his fiercely. His hands flounder, confused, before settling on her waist and she lets her hips roll against his.

"Do you have any idea what seeing you with that little girl does to me, Rick?" She asks breathlessly. "Seeing how much you care, how much you love her?"

"Kate - "

"You are not a failure, okay? You are recognising that are some things out of your control. That you can't fix everything in your daughter's life, no matter how much you want to. That is not failure, babe."

At that, he gives in, the argument resolving itself. He pulls her closer and she wraps her arms tightly around him, nose against his shoulder and kissing the fabric of his t-shirt.

"How about we look for therapists for Alexis in the morning? Broach the subject with her once we've found someone."

"Together."

She unwraps one of her arms from him to tangle their fingers together.

"Together."

* * *

Colin Hunt is… interesting.

Dancing around with him in what is quite probably her fanciest dress hasn't exactly been an unpleasant experience. There are far worse people to go undercover with. And he is rather charming - doesn't push like other male detectives have when undercover before, hands in inappropriate places she hasn't given consent to (she will never miss vice). He keeps himself a respectable distance from her while remaining convincing, and, well, his accent isn't too bad either.

But he's not Castle.

They step off of the elevator and onto the precinct floor still dressed in their fancy attire. The dress is a little irritating now, and the make up she's used to cover her scar wearing away slightly and itching. All she wants is to get to her desk, grab her locker key and go get changed into something more appropriate and far more comfortable.

"Castle?"

He's drawn a chair up to the side of her desk, playing what sounds like candy crush on his phone with a bag filled with Thai in his lap - upon closer inspection, she thinks it's from her favourite store.

At the sound of her voice he looks up, smiling. Just plain happy to see her. His eyes track over her outfit with wonder and a little confusion if the tug of his eyebrows is any confusion, before snapping to Hunt who stands beside her. He doesn't ask where they've been, but she knows he instantly picks up on the correlation between her and Hunt's attire, begins sizing up the man stood beside her.

"Rick?"

He drags his eyes back to her. "Hey. Sorry, I - I thought I'd bring you some Thai for dinner. You said you wouldn't be able to make it home in time for it, so."

She grins. "Thanks, Castle. That's really sweet. You know, we don't have anything left to do here tonight, so how about I go change and you and I can head out?"

"Sure thing."

Hunt is watching them curiously. She knows the detective inspector has a blossoming interest in her, the same way she feels a budding attraction towards him, but it would never go anywhere. Whether Castle had shown up here or not, she wouldn't have allowed it.

"Where's Alexis, by the way?" She asks as she searches through her desk drawer for her desk key.

"Shopping with mother," he replies slowly. "She took her from school. Claimed there was no sadness that couldn't be cured through a shopping spree. I think she was just looking for an excuse to get her hands on my credit card."

Kate laughs, finally finding the key. "Sounds like Martha."

"Where were you, by the way?" He asks, glancing at Hunt again. The man is waiting for her as she'd let him use some of the space in her locker for his casual clothes. "And how can I convince you to wear that to the launch party of _Nikki Heat?_"

She glares at him. "First of all, you are not calling her that. Second, we went to the British Consulate as part of a case. Undercover. Hence the dress. This is Detective Inspector Hunt, Scotland Yard are letting us borrow him."

Castle stands, still assessing Hunt. The Brit is nothing but polite, however, and holds out his hand for Castle to shake.

"More like Detective Beckett allowed me the privilege of working this case with her," he tells Castle, smiling.

The corner of Castle's eyes go tight and she gulps, moving to stand beside him.

"I'm Rick Castle."

"The author?"

"One in the same."

"Interesting," Hunt says, glancing between them again. Okay, time to break up the testosterone party.

"I'm going to get changed. I'll be back in five minutes," she tells Castle.

He hums, sitting back in the chair he's claimed as his. Kate tells herself not to look back at him as she walks away, but she thinks she catches him glaring at Hunt as he follows her upstairs to the changing rooms.

"I suppose my plan of asking you out for drinks is redundant?" Colin asks as she hands him his clothes from her locker.

Kate blushes, laughing softly. Yeah, Castle had not played it cool with Hunt. Honestly, does he really think she was going to run away? Lead astray by a man from overseas? Oh - Actually, that does sound like something out of a romance movie.

"It would be," she admits.

"A shame," Hunt says.

She doesn't know what to say to that. Yes? No? It's not a shame, for her, but she'll let him have his moment.

It's a relief when she wiggles into her NYPD sweatpants and an old white t-shirt she's had buried in her locker for god knows how long. She slips into a pair of ratty sneakers, too, flexing her toes in relief. Sure, she loves heels. But days in them are often long and have her legs aching. She wonders if she'll be able to convince Castle to massage them for her. Well, that won't take much convincing.

Quickly, she slips into the toilets and lets her hair fall loose from its pinned up style, shaking her head and making the curls bounce. After, she makes sure she wipes away all of the make up hiding her scar before throwing the wipe in the bin. It's almost startling to see it again, but she feels more like herself.

Castle's still waiting by her desk when she returns, hopping up onto his feet and grinning at their height difference. She knows he loves it. It's odd that she loves it too.

"Ready?"

Hunt has joined the boys at their desks as she lifts her bag onto her shoulder and grins at Castle.

"Ready."

She refrains from rolling her eyes when he throws his arm over her shoulder on their way out.

They take a cab back to her apartment. Though she loves his place, the fact that his mother is looking after Alexis is something she wants to take advantage of. Craves cuddling with him on her couch while watching their favourite movies and eating too much takeout. He doesn't question it, lets her pluck the bag from his hands as he moves over to her DVD collection to choose their movie tonight.

"Hey, Kate?"

"Yeah?"

"What's this?"

She leaves the bag of takeout on the table and find that he's -

Oh.

Castle is nothing but curious, eyes scanning the photos and writing stuck to the windows and shutters of her apartment. Left open from one late night she'd had recently, images of her mother's dead body swirling around in her mind and depriving her of sleep until she'd slipped out of bed and returned to reading the same files she's read for the past thirteen years.

"You're investigating your mother's case," he concludes flatly.

And then he turns to her with fire in his eyes.

* * *

**TBC**


	13. Chapter 13

**may flowers**

_An unlucky number to end on. I hope you've all enjoyed reading this. Thank you for sticking with it, if you have.  
_

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen  
**

She closes her eyes and counts to ten.

The world around her is busy. New York doesn't stop for anyone. The air of the city is thick with pollution and clings to her skin as she breathes out slowly, calming the erratic patter of her heart. Places a hand on her stomach to make sure she's breathing for real, not just faking, like her therapist taught her.

"Kate?"

The little girl tugs on her hand with wide, sad eyes. She tries to smile, think of something encouraging to say, but she falls mute. Alexis simply waits, watching her.

"C'mon," she finally manages.

Not for the first time, she is grateful that Alexis is mature for her age. Of course, she loves the moments that Alexis allows herself to simply be a child, the moments when she and her father revel in the innocence of the young. But right now, she doesn't want innocence. Can't do innocence. Not when this is going to hurt so badly.

The grass is still damp from the rain that had fallen that morning, so she lays her blazer down on the ground to sit on as a blanket. She crosses her legs and Alexis plops herself down into her lap without asking, and Kate's arms wrap around her small frame easily. As though they've been doing this for years.

"This is my mom. Johanna Beckett," she tells her.

Alexis sighs. "That's a pretty name."

"She was a beautiful woman... she was killed when I was nineteen."

"Oh."

Alexis looks away from Johanna's grave to Kate. She looks exactly like Castle, Kate thinks, when she's sad - that same kicked puppy look that makes her scars hum and replace her hands with band-aids. It's the eyes. And, oh, how she has missed Castle's eyes. They're the thing she misses about him most. They're so expressive, his eyes, and the way he had looked at her had always made her think that maybe she was worth fixing. It's been eight days since he left her. And still, at night, she thinks about the way he looked at her when daybreak would first filter through the city in the morning.

"The killer was never caught."

"But Daddy says you're the best detective in the world," Alexis says, confused. "You always get justice. Don't you?"

Kate's eyes water and her throat stings. "Most of the time. But not… not for her."

Alexis looks back at the grave. It's simple, and understated, and less than her mother deserves. But her father had been drinking, and she had been spiralling, and there had not been much closure in death.

"It's why I became a detective. I actually wanted to be a lawyer, like my mom and dad. But then I joined the police academy because I wanted to catch her killer."

"But you didn't."

Kate takes a jagged breath and kisses the top of Alexis's head. "No, I didn't."

"And it's why you were shot?"

Alexis twists again, resting her hand between Kate's breasts, making the fabric of her shirt rustle.

"Yeah… And I never found the guy who shot me, either. It's why I had so many nightmares, you remember how I told you about that?" She asks, waiting for Alexis to nod. "It's why I had to have therapy. I still go."

Alexis's eyes go wide. "But you're so happy, Kate."

She smiles, cupping Alexis's cheek with her palm. The tears spill from her eyes even as she berates herself for it. She'd wanted to stay strong for Alexis, teach her that there is no shame in weakness, that needing help isn't wrong. Most days, she doesn't know how to remember these things herself. The least she can do is make sure Alexis never has to feel an inch of what she does herself.

"You and your dad make me very happy, Alexis. And a lot of time in therapy has allowed me to see that I can move on and be happy even if my mom's killer is never caught. For a long time I didn't think that was possible."

Alexis goes quiet and rests her head on Kate's shoulder. Kate smooths a hand along Alexis's side, settling on her hip and gripping her tightly in a side hug. It's late, and darkness is spilling across the sky, and Kate watches as an elderly woman presses a kiss to her fingers and lets them linger on the grave in front of her. New York never stops. Everyone has their own story. She wishes this hadn't been her own, but it's all she's been given.

She'll make it work. Someday.

"So there's nothing wrong with me? For - for needing to go to therapy like you and daddy suggested?"

"Oh, Alexis, no," she presses Alexis back softly so she can see her face. "There is _nothing_ wrong with you. You are absolutely perfect, and we just want to make sure that you're happy. That's all that matters. That's all we want."

Alexis nods, sniffling a little as they both cry. "What do the words on the grave mean?"

Kate laughs, wiping her tears away with the back of her hand. "Truth conquers all things. It was my mom's favourite saying."

"I like it."

Kate kisses Alexis's forehead softly. "Me too."

* * *

Alexis's therapist is a young woman who looks like she couldn't have been long out of college, but has more degrees and awards than Kate can think to count. She and Castle had looked her up online weeks ago, before everything had fallen apart, and Doctor Wright's good reputation had been undeniable. One of the best child therapists Manhattan had to offer.

When she first walks into the hallway, Kate is shocked at how friendly she is. In a way that is completely natural. Her black hair tumbles in curls around her shoulders and her smile makes her cheeks round and soft, dark eyes stable like the earth. She holds her hand out for Alexis to shake, holding her smile.

"You must be Alexis. I'm Doctor Wright, but you can call me Hayley if you like."

Alexis accepts her hand shyly. "Hello… Hayley."

"And you must be Alexis's parents," the doctor surmises, turning to Castle and Kate.

"Oh, no. I'm Alexis's father. Richard Castle. This is Kate. She's not…"

She doesn't look at him. Can't. Feels a pressure against her sternum that she can't shake off. "I'm a friend of the family."

She accepts Doctor Wright's firm handshake shakily. The waiting room is adorned with toys for the younger children, the wallpaper bright and cartoon animals smile all around them. Still, the place unsettles her - she's too used to dread curling in the pit of her stomach when she thinks of therapy. Too used to the idea that she's going to fail, that she is not improving enough, when mental health can't be ignored like all of the other times she's been hurt.

"It's good that you came. Support is extremely important for Alexis at this time," Doctor Wright says, before looking down at Alexis. "Do you want either of them to come in with you, sweetie?"

Alexis looks down at her feet and shakes her head. Kate doesn't hold it against her, and looks down at her own feet as Castle leans down to brush a kiss against his daughter's forehead.

"We'll be right outside this whole time. You need us, you just say the word," he tells her.

Alexis nods silently, following Doctor Wright into her office, disappearing behind the door as it closes. Kate turns and makes her way over to the chairs, sitting down and crossing her arms across her chest. She feels Castle sit next to her and watches the way the other parents in the room sit with worried expressions, discussing medication and weekly appointments and spending more time with their children. It's not an environment she had ever thought she'd be in. It's too quiet and sad.

Kate watches the receptionist as she picks up the toys littered across the floor, scooping them up in her arms before depositing them in the treasure chest themed toy box in the corner. A little boy with blonde hair and a sweet smile steals one from her arms before she can, sitting down on the carpet and running the toy car along the ground. He must be the younger sibling of a patient, she thinks. And then he looks up, over at a set of parents sat behind herself and Castle, asking his dad to come play with him with pleading blue eyes. And it's too early, and too late, but she had been picturing her own children with blue eyes.

"Thank you for coming. It means a lot to Alexis."

Her eyes dart to his hands, curled in his lap. It's the closest they've been in weeks. She can feel the warmth of his body brush against her shoulder.

"Of course. I wouldn't have missed this."

It's the first time they've been alone in so long and she can't help herself. Reaches out to take his hand in hers.

"Castle…"

His hand pulls away quicker than lightning, and then he's on his feet.

"I'm going to get something from the vending machine."

Kate sighs, looks up at the ceiling, and blinks away her tears.

* * *

They settle into routine. Alexis is recommended weekly appointments with her therapist, so every friday afternoon she ends work early and picks Alexis up from school. They spend a couple hours together to help cheer her up and ease any anxieties she has about the appointment, before meeting Castle at the therapist's office. At which point, the young girl follows her therapist into the office, and she and Castle do not speak. Her cheeks still burn from his rejection, and for five weeks she learns how physical closeness is nothing in comparison to what they used to have.

Sometimes, Alexis asks why she no longer stops by the loft, why she never has dinner with them or accompanies them during movie marathons. Every time, she has an excuse lined up on the tip of her tongue, ones she and Castle had agreed on. She's busy with work, is having dinner with her dad, has a meeting to go to. Soon enough, Alexis stops asking. The guilt does not go away.

"You can stop bringing her."

They're alone in the waiting room except for the receptionist and at first she thinks she's dreamed the words. But then she looks at Castle and finds him looking at her and all of the breath leaves her lungs.

"What?"

"Alexis. There's no point continuing like this. It's unhealthy for her. She needs stability and honesty."

"You're the one that wanted to lie to her."

"She's _my_ daughter."

Her hands shake as she bites back the angry words that rise like bile in her throat. He's glowering and she clenches her teeth, hoping it will hold back tears, because she refuses to cry in front of this man. Too many nights she has spent alone crying for him, too many nights he'll never know or care about and she refuses to give him any more. But Alexis -

Alexis needs stability. She needs routine. She can't just leave her life, abandon her when she's so vulnerable. So long ago, she had wondered what her role would be in Alexis's life. Worried that he thought she would be comfortable taking the place of her mother. And she doesn't want that. She doesn't want to be Alexis's mother, because that's not what she is. But she's not just a friend of the family either, and she's not just going to be pushed aside when it feels like that little girl needs her. Someone who understands what she's going through. And Alexis is her last link. Her last link to Castle.

"You can't just push me out. That's not good for Alexis, she needs - "

"She needs her family."

"I _am_ her family," Kate protests hoarsely.

Castle laughs bitterly, shaking his head and she lifts up onto her feet to pace the residual anger away. She knows he's watching her, and she waits for him to say something, to give in. Allow her this one thing.

"Can I take her out for lunch tomorrow? To tell her that we broke up and that I can't… that you won't…"

Kate scrubs a hand over her eyes. She has to give them up.

It's not working.

"I don't think it's a good idea, Kate. It's probably best if it comes from me."

Her eyes are watering when she looks over at him and at the sight he rises to his feet. She takes a step back.

"I love you, Castle. And I love that little girl, and your mother, and I want to be there. I want to be part of your family, Rick, I - "

The door to Doctor Wright's door opens and she swipes her tears away immediately. Alexis looks a little happier than usual and skips over to her, wrapping her hands around Kate's hips and propping her chin on her stomach to smile up at her.

"You're looking happy," Kate remarks, running a hand through the girl's hair. Getting a little long, in need of a haircut.

"Daddy and I are going to the Hamptons this weekend. Paige is coming too!"

Kate crouches down until she can wrap her own arms around Alexis. In the background, she hears Doctor Wright telling Castle time away will be a good thing for Alexis. Her grip on the young girl grows a little bit tighter.

"Kate?"

"Have a great time, Alexis. Say hi to Paige for me?" She pulls away, cupping the young girl's cheek.

"I'll see you when I get home. You said Lanie wanted to go out for dinner with you and me again!"

Her eyes flicker to Castle and he shakes his head. She looks back to Alexis and makes sure she plasters on the biggest smile she can muster.

"I think your dad has better plans."

* * *

Two weeks pass and Castle doesn't contact her to change his mind. There's no way she can fight him. After all, Alexis isn't hers. She only knew them for eight months. Dated him for five of those. It'd been a minor fraction of the life she lives. And yet, sometimes, when the looks from the boys get too pitying over lunch, she takes herself to central park and watches other families and thinks of them. Of what they could've had. June, and the children catch bugs and have picnics and she finds herself missing something that she never had fiercely. Her father had known Castle made her happy. She had known that. It seems everyone did but the man himself.

Lanie pours the wine as she opens the windows of her apartment for the cool summer breeze. She loves the heat, loves walking around her apartment with no socks on and the wooden floor cooling her feet. Loves wearing shorts and tying her hair up and soaking up the sun. She wonders where he is now, if he likes the summer half as much as she does. She thinks he must do, if he owns a place in the Hamptons.

"You have got to get out more, girl," Lanie says as they both settle on the couch, wine in hand. "It's been what, seven weeks? I refuse to let you become the girl who sits around all night moping over a guy."

"I do not mope, Lanie."

"Then what do you call this?" She asks, gesturing to her cluttered coffee table. Littered with takeout cartons and bottles of wine and more than a couple romcom DVDs.

"The life of a single woman in her thirties."

Lanie rolls her eyes. "Honey, I know you love him - "

"Lanie, please. I don't want to talk about it. Him."

Her friend reaches out to wrap a hand around her knee and Kate takes a gulp of her wine. She really doesn't want to talk about Castle. Because if she does, it makes what's happening real. She can't just pretend that this is all a bad dream. If she talks about it, then she has to face how she really feels, and she's reached a point now when she's able to think about him and even though it hurts she can still carry on. She doesn't want to ruin that progress.

"Fine. You give yourself an ulcer. But I need to rant about Javi, because let me tell you…"

Eventually, their conversation turns away from men and onto the strangest cases they've worked. The hours pass easily, and she smiles, and lets herself have fun without thinking about how much better life would be if after this she could go to him and tell him about her girl's night with Lanie, and fall asleep to the sound of his breathing, and wake up to his teasing about her drinking too much wine.

"Katherine Beckett, _what_ is this?"

Lanie rounds the corner wielding the Nikki Heat manuscript.

"Were you looking through my stuff?" She hisses.

"I was looking for a corkscrew to open the new bottle of wine! It's not _my_ fault you left this in a drawer that's easily accessible."

Kate stands and peels the manuscript from Lanie's hands, clutching it to her chest protectively. She'd forgotten about it, figured she had hidden it away safely in her bedroom, away from Lanie's prying eyes. After all, she reads it often.

"Kate," Lanie says softly, moving closer to hug her. "Is this the book he wrote about you?"

Kate sighs, still clutching the manuscript as she buries her face in Lanie's shoulder. "It was supposed to be. He's not publishing it anymore. He took up an old offer to write some spy novels instead."

Lanie rubs her back comfortingly and she curls her arms tighter around the manuscript. The pages are growing a little dog eared. Already, she's worried about ruining it. It's the only copy besides his. It's precious. The only real thing she has left of him beside a couple t-shirts he'd left in a drawer and his toothbrush and photos on her phone that she still can't bring herself to delete.

"I want to say he's a bad guy for the way he's treated you," her friend says, pulling away. "But honey, he wrote a _book_ about you."

Kate looks down and traces the dedication.

_To the extraordinary KB, and all of the light she brings._

* * *

It's almost two in the morning and she knows that she shouldn't be breaking into his apartment. Logically, she knows it's not the right thing to do. But Lanie had left a little after midnight and there had still been half a bottle of wine left, and now her hand is a little numb as she uses the key she'd forgotten to return to break into his apartment. The door opens a little easier than she'd like and she stumbles slightly, catching herself before she manages to fall.

Quickly, she sheds her heels before she can grow too noisy. Jeez, what is she doing? She is a cop. This is exactly the kind of thing people get arrested over. And at this point, she doesn't think she'd be surprised if he called the police. It'd be interesting to explain to Gates why she was arrested, drunk, breaking into her ex-boyfriend's apartment at two in the morning because it turns out she's a little more needy when it comes to him than she'd like.

Her hips bump the sofa as she tries to make her way through the front room quietly and she grimaces. The door to his office is closed, but through the bookcases she can see a dim light. White light, and she figures he's awake. Probably writing. He does that a lot. Sometimes she'd wake and have to convince him to come back to bed because she couldn't stand sleeping there without him. The bed was too big just for her.

Kate takes a deep breath, resting her forehead on the door. She could just go. Pretend this moment of weakness never happened.

She opens the door.

Castle jerks up from his seat when he sees her, laptop clunking from his legs onto the desk. She sways slightly, shoulder bumping the doorframe and suddenly all of the words she had planned to say feel foreign in her mind.

"Kate?"

She's frozen, staring at him with the key in her hands. Something. She had come here with the plan to say something.

He moves around the desk until he's standing in front of her, and she thinks he should be angry. If he had done this to her, she would've kicked him out in an instant. Instead he forces her to look up at him, fingers curling around her jaw.

"Are you drunk?"

Her head feels heavy and she rests it in his hands, no longer trusting herself to hold it up. Things are spinning, but she's not quite sure if it's because of him or the alcohol. She's not sure which one she'd rather.

"Lanie came round. Had wine. Some shots? I think. I don't know. She left and I had more wine," she tells him, tongue thick in her mouth and then his arms are around her and the world is moving and she's moving with it. In his arms? She's in his arms.

"And you drove here? By yourself?"

He's laying her down on the sofa, and she wraps her arms around his neck, refusing to let him stand. "No. Walked."

"You walked here on your own? Drunk? Jesus, Kate."

"I miss you. I miss you so much, Castle," she tells him, gripping him tightly. "And I miss Alexis, and Martha, and I miss you all the time."

"Kate," he murmurs. "Let me get you some water. You need to sleep this off."

Kate wrenches herself until she's sitting upright even as the world spins, tugging on his arm until he sighs and sits down next to her. For the first time in weeks, she can wrap her arms around him like she used to. Rest her forehead against his neck, lips at his sternum. Feel him close and surrounded by his warmth and this is all she wants for the rest of her life. This closeness. This warmth. He's the first man she's ever fought so hard to keep.

"You're the first person I'd seen a future with, Castle. For so long my only plan for the future has been catching my mother's killer. But you - "

"Kate. You're drunk. Please."

"You know I mean it. You _do_."

He pulls away and she doesn't reach for him. Refuses to keep acting so needy if he's so determined to push her away.

"You lied to me, Kate. You lied. Jesus, Kate, these guys shot you, and put you through Hell. They endanger your life and those around you and you thought it was okay to do that? To put Alexis in danger like that?"

Kate rests her head in her hands as they tremble. She hadn't meant to do this. Lose him to her mother's case like she did everyone else. They'd had such a good thing going for them.

"I didn't… I didn't lie," she says, but her mind is blurry. "I wasn't investigating. Not really. I made that whole board years ago. Before I met you. And I - I don't know how to let go Castle. I don't know if I can. I'm trying, I want to try. Castle, I want to let go. I do. There was a case in May - and it was to do with my mom and I - I just wanted to come to you and see what you'd say because you _always _know what to say but I knew I couldn't, and I pushed to far and Castle I'm _trying._"

When she begins to cry, he's back again, and she's not sure if her vision is blurring or if he's crying too. His arms rope around her and she wants to push him away and drag him closer at the same time and all she can wonder is how they managed to get into this position. They were so good, so happy. And she knows she can be happy without him, but she doesn't want to be without him. Not over something she's been working on for so long, even before she had met him.

"I'm sorry," she slurs. "Castle, I love you, and I'm sorry. I shouldn't have lied. I know. I know that."

"Shh," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to her temple and she grips him tightly. "I didn't - I don't want you to quit finding justice because of me, Kate. Your mother deserves justice. I just want you to keep me in the loop. I want to help you. You - you need someone to make sure that you don't get swallowed up in this, someone who is sure you won't end up in danger. That's all I want, Kate. I know we hadn't even been dating long but I'd been thinking about asking you to move in, and then to find out you'd kept that from me... I can't describe how that felt."

"I would've said yes."

In a moment of blind hope, she lifts her head and her mouth finds his. He doesn't push her away, and she's sure she's messy because she's drunk and has missed him fiercely and then he kisses her back and her toes curl as a sob rips out of her. Oh, God. She's missed this. Him. She's missed him so much.

Too soon, he pushes her away gently.

"Let me get you some water. So you can sober up. You can stay in the guest bedroom, you shouldn't go out on your own like this."

He leaves her on the couch with her_ I love you'_s and she glowers at his retreating form. Fine. _Fine._

She bumps into walls and doorframes on her way into Castle's room, grabbing an old t-shirt of hers and some shorts she'd left in her drawer to sleep in. As she pulls on the shorts, she trips, falling straight onto the mattress with a huff. She's far more drunk than she had originally thought she was. She finally gets back up on her feet, however, and tries to march in a straight line in the kitchen, where Castle passes her some water and insists on walking her up to the room.

"Castle, I'm not two. I can walk upstairs just fine without you hovering around me."

"Listen, Kate, you're drunk. I just think it's better if we talk about this in the morning, so that I know you mean it."

"You know I - "

"Kate," he says, setting his hands on her shoulders. "You're drunk. We'll talk about this in the morning."

In the end, she lets him walk her up the stairs. The alcohol impairs her sense of balance and she stumbles a few times but he's there to catch her, warm hands spanning her waist as if there had never been any distance between them.

"Goodnight, Rick," she murmurs when they reach the top, turning to look at him with her heart in her hands.

He smiles and despite all of the budding anger inside of her, she loves him.

"Until tomorrow, Kate."

* * *

Morning comes around earlier than she'd thought. In her drunken state last night, she'd forgotten to close the blinds, so she wakes to a throbbing headache and groans when she finds the room completely filled with white light. Instead of reaching for the water on the bedside cabinet, she shoves her pillow over her head and presses her face into the mattress. Hoping, maybe, if she stays here long enough both her hangover and memory of last night will go away.

Some time after, she hears the door open and close again with a soft _snick. _The smell of coffee grows thick in the air and she knows it's him, but is too embarrassed to move. God, she'd poured her heart at his feet and he had pushed her away. After she had broken into his apartment at two in the morning drunker than she'd been since she was in college.

"I made you coffee," he says, settling by her hip and she groans. "Figured you needed it."

"You don't have to be nice to me, Castle. I know you want me to go."

Even as she protests, he lifts the pillow away from her face and forces her to look at him.

"Kate. Did you mean it?"

She sits up, reaching out to place a hand on his leg. He watches her earnestly and oh _god, _she's missed him looking at her like she's more than he could've ever dreamed. Has hated all this distance between them. She should've explained herself sooner. Apologised sooner. And he should've listened to her side of the story.

But they're here now.

"Kate."

She reaches up and cups his cheek with her palm.

"Yes. Yes, Castle," she whispers. "I meant it."

His kiss tastes of coffee.

It feels like home.

* * *

**The End**


End file.
